


Progress

by JenExell



Series: Sempiternitas [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Aliens, Angst, Drugs, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, People Trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenExell/pseuds/JenExell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second story in the Sempiternitas Series: Ianto Jones, prisoner of TW3, is settling into his new life, and things are as back to normal as they get in Cardiff. But the imminent arrival of a certain VIP stands to change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**November 2004.  
Six Days to Arrival.**

If someone were to ask Suzie Costello what the greatest joy in her life was, the one great bright spot that made waking up each day worth doing, she wouldn’t even hesitate in her reply. 

Her job. 

It was difficult to explain, to quantify. There was so much shit, so much dirt and filth in her job, but also so much wonder and magic. So much brilliance. She absolutely loved it and couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else. Her life before was meaningless, and as far she was concerned if her life onwards contained nothing but Torchwood she would die a happy woman. 

That didn’t mean that everything was roses. Like all relationships there were ups and downs, good points and bad points, arguments, hassles, day to day mediocrities. Still, walking into the hub each morning felt like coming home and she wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Things had changed along the way of course. When she’d first started it had just been her and Jack. Just the two of them and all the piles of wondrous technology; so many new things to discover, so much to learn. She knew, primarily, that Jack had recruited her to do all the things that he didn’t have the time or the inclination to deal with. A man alone could do things as he liked, but Jack hadn’t wanted Torchwood Three to be a one man show. He’d had plans, he had a vision. He had a goal for Torchwood Three; he wanted them to be official. He’d seen something in her that he believed would help him achieve his goal, and even though she wasn’t sure exactly what it was, she wasn’t about to question it. 

He’d trained her for the field, although even now she wouldn’t claim to be the greatest field agent. No her strengths lay in her work out of the field. Her personal interest in weapons and technology came from the objects themselves - from understanding how they worked and from their deadly beauty - rather than from any real desire to use them. Not that she couldn’t use them. Because she could when she needed to. 

Then Jack had found Owen, and not long after, Tosh. Although saying that, despite Tosh joining them after Owen, Suzie knew Jack had had his eye on the petite Japanese woman for some time before she’d arrived; all scared and jittery and looking at Jack like a he was both angel and devil at the same time. Owen had been something of an accident. She and Jack had talked about hiring a medic - although mostly in jest whenever one of them got hurt and the other had to apply their somewhat limited skills in first aid – but had never really sought one out to recruit. Then Owen had been sort of dropped in their laps; angry, bitter, resentful, but brilliant. 

Of course she knew their stories; the winding roads that had led them to Torchwood. The others didn’t know hers and she was more than content with that. That’s how it worked. Jack, he knew everyone’s story. She didn’t know his, but she knew Tosh and Owen’s. Owen knew Tosh’s and Tosh knew no-ones. She supposed that’s what counted as the hierarchy here; not rank, not the number of stripes on someone’s shoulder or hours logged in the field, but information. The more each of them knew about the team, the higher their authority. 

She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if anyone found out Jack’s story. Now that would be an interesting power-play. She might not know a lot about the ever enigmatic Captain Jack Harkness but she knew he wouldn’t give up command without a fight. Torchwood Three was _his. His_ domain. _His_ kingdom. _His_ rules.

The charming, charismatic, mercurial yet benevolent dictator. 

Not to mention drop dead gorgeous. Coming in to work and looking at that face every day was no hardship at all. Even on days like today, when it was pissing down with rain and he was - by the sound of his voice when he’d called her earlier to make sure she was in for an eight thirty briefing - in a mood to match the weather. 

Pulling into a parking space in the car-park, Suzie checked the time on the dash. It was only just coming up to a quarter to eight. Just enough time to pick up some breakfast before heading in. 

She didn’t bother with an umbrella, just dashed across the car park towards Mermaid Quay as quickly as her boot heals would let her. The queue in the coffee shop wasn’t long, and not ten minutes later she was jogging along the quay front to the Hub’s main entrance. 

It was strange, but even two years on this place still amused her. An organisation with the most advanced technology in the world, dedicated to protecting the human race, and their front door was a disused tourist information kiosk. Jack had once told her that his predecessor had decided on a tourist office as a front because he completely believed the Mermaid Quay development was doomed to failure. An abandoned tourist office in the middle of a failed regeneration project would blend in perfectly. Prior to that, from what Suzie could gather, this entrance had been more of a back door, disguised behind the facade of one of the many doors leading to sheds or stores around the docks, and the main entrance had been inside some kind of warehouse. 

Obviously, Mermaid Quay hadn’t failed and so their front door was actually in the middle of a fairly well trafficked area. This had the rather unfortunate side effect of making the tourist office one that the Welsh Tourist Board would every now and then make noises about. And of course it was into Suzie’s inbox that the memos and requests came; redirected from the fake cover corporation Torchwood used in its dealings with developers and the council. Not that they were all that much of a hassle to deal with. After all, how hard was it really to press delete? Experience had proved that ignoring whichever newly appointed hyper efficient area manager had caught on to the empty office actually worked. Eventually they either got bored, bogged down with other problems or moved on, leaving Torchwood blessedly unmolested until the next time. 

Come to think of it, there had been a lot more noise about the office in the last few months. If it kept up she might actually have to talk to Jack about another solution.

But not today. Whatever Jack wanted to talk about today was clearly of far greater importance.

Juggling her handbag, paper bag and take-away coffee cup, Suzie fished around for her keys and once found, she opened the office door and crossed into the dusty interior; leaning with practiced ease over the counter to press the entry button and slipping down the hallway towards the lift. 

She was home. The smell, the rumble of the lift. The blaring of the claxon as the cog door rolled back and the security cage opened. Tosh, as always, already sat at her terminal working away. Jack would be around somewhere, but if the man knew the meaning of the word routine, Suzie had yet to see any evidence of it. Owen wouldn’t be in yet. He treated time-keeping like most people treated extreme sports; he knew it existed and that some people did it, but it wasn’t his thing. 

Then, as she was approaching her own workstation, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Something still too new to be part of the picture. Lurking in the shadows, just on the periphery. 

Putting down her handbag, she pulled the pastry out of the paper bag, and with her coffee in her other hand moved to stand behind Tosh’s shoulder. “I see the mouse has come out of his hole.”

“You could be nicer to him.” Tosh muttered quietly, ducking her head. 

Suzie ignored her and took a bite of her pastry instead. The comment didn’t come as a surprise. Ianto Jones was Toshiko’s pet project. They all had their own things they focussed on in the quiet times, and Tosh apparently had taken the mouse as hers. She was leading the research into The Pattern. She made sure he was fed, brought him things to keep him occupied and took him outside at least once a day. Suzie shook her head. That description made him sound less rodent and more canine, and as much as she still believed Ianto Jones was a drain on their resources, the thought made her feel a brief flicker of shame. Only brief, but it was there.

She supposed she just found it slightly unnerving having him in the hub. He never said very much and didn’t often leave his room despite the fact that it was locking him in that had sent him over the edge before. Right now he was stood leaning against the archway into the autopsy bay, and Suzie could have smacked herself for forgetting. Of course he would be out of his room. He’d be waiting for Owen to arrive so they could start his morning battery of tests. 

What was that expression? Speak of the devil and he shall arrive to the sound of a claxon, looking like a drowned and hung-over rat? 

She waited until the wiry medic was jogging past her before she made a comment, smirk firmly in place.“Rough night Owen?” 

“Shove it up your arse Suzie” Owen shot back with a growl, not breaking his stride. “Time?”

“Six minutes past eight.” Tosh called out in answer to the barked question. 

“Good, just enough.” Owen replied, and having reached Ianto, grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him towards the pit. “Come on glow boy, Harkness has a stick up his arse this morning, so we gotta get done fast.”

Suzie watched it all with a snort and shake of her head, taking a sip of her coffee. 

God she loved her job.

~Tw~wT~

Captain Jack Harkness had heard many things said about himself and his team by his fellow directors of the four remaining Torchwood branches. Most of them he was sure he hadn’t been meant to overhear. Disorganised. Shambolic. Incompetent. Amateurish. Unprofessional. A rag-tag bunch of no-hopers and criminals. Most of it completely untrue and what skirted on the truth he chose to ignore. It wasn’t so much him putting his head in the sand – he better than anyone knew his own faults and foibles and those of his team – it was more a form of disdain for the one from whom most of these comments came. He found it near impossible to take offense at insults slung his way by someone so deluded, no matter if everyone else in the room had a nasty habit of nodding along.

No their head-quarters weren’t all shiny white, steel and glass. No they didn’t have a strict dress code, or a habit of burying themselves under excessive and unnecessary bureaucracy. Yes they tended to work in a more ad-hoc fashion and that suited him, and their circumstances, down to the ground. Being overly strict wasn’t his style. He’d recruited the best people for the jobs they needed to do, and in his experience, letting said people get on with their jobs worked out more efficient than demanding written reports every five minutes and team meetings every ten. 

Doing things ‘officially’ wasn’t how they worked. And yet, as he surveyed the conference room he couldn’t actually recall ever seeing the group look more professional. All of them sat up straight and attentive around the conference table, the files he’d left in place for each of them untouched for the time being. Formality. Some circumstances demanded it, and his team hadn’t needed to be told that this was one of those circumstances. They’d just _known_. 

Pride. Hartman and her cronies could say whatever the hell they liked, Jack knew he had the best damned team in Torchwood.

“OK people, listen up.” He started, and squashed the grimace he felt when no one moved a muscle since they were already fully focussed on him. “This is important. For the next week we are going to be under some intense scrutiny, the eyes of the world will be on Cardiff and we can’t afford to make a single mistake.”

“No offence Jack,” Owen cut in, “But the opening of the Millennium Centre might be significant to the Welsh, but it’s hardly international news. And it’s not exactly Torchwood business.”

“It is when the Queen is the one doing the opening.” Jack countered sternly. “Mi5 have the human aspect covered, we need to make sure we have the non-human side of things in hand. One slip up, one thing goes wrong and every news network in the world will be all over this city like a rash.”

“If the rift decides to spit something out while she’s here it’s hardly our fault.” Suzie argued. 

“No, true. But if we don’t have whatever it is contained and dealt with quickly, efficiently and most of all quietly, we’re going to have a problem.” Jack threw back with a meaningful look. 

“Torchwood One.” Suzie sighed.

Jack nodded and picked up the thread. “They’ve tried everything in the book to get us declared rogue. I don’t want to give them any more ammunition. Besides, I actually quite like our Lizzy and I would rather she left Cardiff with all her limbs.”

“I will never, ever get my head around the concept of you in the same room as the Queen.” Owen snorted and shook his head. “It’s like...”

“Putting Mother Teresa in the same room as Katie Price?” Tosh suggested eagerly. 

Owen opened his mouth a few times before he could find words. “That’s just warped.” 

“I’m actually insulted.” Jack shook his head casting Tosh an astonished look. “You’re comparing me to Katie Price?”

“Well she’s not comparing you to Mother Teresa.” Suzie snorted through her laugher.

“Alright, alright, fun’s over. We have work to do.” Jack sighed, shaking his head again, a soft wry snort leaving him. When the others had collected themselves he continued. “The files in front of you contain detailed plans of Her Majesty’s schedule, transit routes, emergency plans and retinue. As well as the Queen we have Prince Philip and Prince Charles, and they each have their own itineraries. The royals never travel in more than pairs and always different routes. I want you to go over every detail. I want every possible scenario covered. Tosh, I want you to cross reference every location in that file with known hotspots, sightings and rift activity. Any matches I want to know about them.” Tosh nodded and Jack turned his gaze to his medic. “Owen. Emergency Medical protocols. Read them, memorise them. You’ll be on standby for the entirety of the visit so...”

“No drinking for me. Just my luck, biggest party this city has seen in years and I have to be sober for it.” Owen groused but nodded all the same.

“Yeah, well, just make sure you are.” Jack reiterated firmly before moving on to his second in command. “Suzie I need you to make sure we’re prepared for any eventuality. Full audit. Every piece of tech, every weapon, every system, checked and re-checked. This is important. All personal projects. All side research, it’s officially on hold until this is all over. Everyone clear?” 

When everyone nodded the affirmative, Jack nodded back. “Then let’s get to work.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Cardiff, November 2004  
Five Days to Arrival**

“Four hundred metres. It’s moving fast. Take the next left.”

Captain Jack Harkness sharply turned the wheel of the battered old Land Rover, ignoring the groans of his three passengers. Careful driving and the highway code were for people not in a hurry to catch up to large alien creatures that had just fallen through a rift in space and time at gone three in the morning. At least that was his theory and he was sticking to it. 

“Four new calls to 999. Witnesses reporting sightings of a buffalo, elephant or large hairy cow. Apparently it’s just torn its way through the side of a bus.” 

Especially when there were descriptions like that coming through. All along the path they were following were scenes of destruction and carnage. Cars dented, crashed into each other. Just up ahead he saw the bus, stunned civilians milling around stupefied, and then a T-junction in the road. 

“Tosh, need a direction.” Jack barked, flicking his gaze into the rear view mirror to catch the petite Japanese woman’s eye where she sat on the back seat, laptop balanced on her knees.

“Go Right. We’re almost on top of it. One hundred metres. It seems to have slowed down.”

“Could it be injured?” Owen asked, grimly hanging onto the handrail above his door as the Land Rover swung through the junction. 

“Given the state of that bus I should bloody hope so. I wouldn’t want to try and capture anything that can do that and not be even a little hurt.” Suzie replied a little exasperatedly from her place next to Tosh. 

“Fifty metres.” Tosh announced and then cursed. “Damn it! No! Not again!”

“What!?” Jack craned his neck to look back at her. 

“I’ve lost connection with the Hub!” Tosh explained urgently. 

“Jack look out!” Suzie cried. 

Jack looked forwards just in time to slam on the breaks.

~Tw~wT~

There was a stilted silence inside the Land Rover as it noisily clunked its way down the slope of the underground parking garage. All four occupants doing their best to breathe as little as possible to avoid the stench radiating from the rumpled engine block. 

Suzie had her door open and was out of the vehicle almost before it had come to a final stop. Not that it was much better outside of the car as it turned out. Perhaps it was psychosomatic, but it certainly _felt_ better to be out of the car than in it. 

As the others also slid out of their seats, Suzie moved around to the front to get better look than she’d been able to get outside under the street lamps. It was a sturdy old beast, the Land Rover, and not your standard set up for one of its model either. Built for more speed than the norm, without losing some of its world renowned power. A more versatile chassis, body reinforcements, bullet proof panels and glass. Still, it had its limits, and those limits were becoming easier to reach the older it got. 

Despite the fact that the alien had been about the size of a small elephant with tusks to match, superficially - given what they’d scraped off the tarmac, wrapped in a tarp and tied to the roof - it appeared the impact had done more damage to the alien, than the alien had done to the Land Rover. The Land Rover at least, was still in one piece. Underneath however she couldn’t be so sure. She would have to get under the bonnet to have a proper look, but there was no way in hell she was touching anything near the front end right now. 

“I’m still not getting any access to the Hub.” Tosh suddenly spoke up breaking Suzie from her very hands off inspection. “The system’s gone into security reset. Must have been another power outage.” 

“That’s the third time this week.” Owen moaned, unconsciously going to rest his hand on the bonnet and only catching himself just in time to avoid contact; his face paling as his features screwed up in distaste. 

Suzie found herself in complete agreement with Owen’s displeasure at the news of another power outage and with his reaction to the front of the car. It really did look worse under the garage lights. 

Blood and gore seemed to cling to the bodywork, odd stringy bits she didn’t want to think about hanging off the wrecked bonnet and front grill. Even as she watched, something slid down the wing as Jack lifted the bonnet and peered inside, his lips curled in disgust. In honesty, she was rather glad she’d moved away, she’d rather not see what was actually inside. The smell in the car on the journey back was enough indication that their high speed impact with the alien had resulted in something organic being pushed into the engine compartment. 

“Alien mince, extra well done.” Owen grimaced as he looked over Jack’s shoulder. “Just lovely.”

Closing the bonnet, Jack straightened and looked around at the group. “Alright. Suzie, Tosh see if you can get inside and reset the systems. Owen and I will bring what’s left of our friend here down once you have.”

Suzie scowled in affront. “And why exactly are we the ones who have to go stumbling around in the dark?”

Beside the Land Rover, Jack stooped and picked up a bucket, holding it aloft. “Would you rather clean crispy alien bits off the SUV?”

“Oh bloody hell.” Owen cursed, his shoulders drooping dramatically. 

Looping her arm through Tosh’s, Suzie turned them both rapidly towards the door to the Hub.

“And suddenly the dark seems a whole lot more attractive.”

~Tw~wT~

Tosh pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes as she tried to focus on the data on the screen in front of her. 

Three power outages in one week. The first two were just blips, making the lights flicker and all the computers reboot but this last one had been a total shutdown. Nearly every system; lights, door locks, computers, phones, the internal sensors, cameras, they had all gone completely offline. The only two systems not affected had been the rift manipulator and the morgue, both of which had back-up power supplies. Thankfully the locking systems they used throughout the Hub were set to be locked should the power fail and not unlocked. Had it been the other way around they wouldn’t have had a problem getting back in, but by the same token, all of the life-forms they had in the vaults wouldn’t have had a problem getting out. The thought of the Hub over run by escaped weevils wasn’t a pleasant one. 

If she could only work out which system was tripping out the power. If she could narrow that down, she could actually work on a way to fix the problem. 

Above her head, the lights flickered. Even as she watched, the diagnostic program she’d been running on the lighting in the lower levels disappeared from her screen and the CPU’s below her feet whined as they rebooted. Three hours of work. Gone. 

“No-o” Clutching her hair in her hands, Tosh dropped her elbows to her desk and resisted the urge to scream or yank her own hair out. 

“Sorry, I guess this is a bad time.”

Tosh sat up with a jolt and turned sharply on her chair. “Ianto!”

Offering Tosh a small half smile, Ianto pulled his hand from his jeans pocket and gave a tiny wave. “Hey. Look I’ll just go back downstairs. It’s fine.”

Ianto. Oh god Ianto. Tosh looked at her watch. Half past ten. “Oh Ianto I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Ianto shrugged, glancing around the central Hub a little nervously. Tosh knew who he was looking for. Jack. If Jack appeared Ianto would vanish with a speed that shouldn’t be possible for a human being. 

“It’s not fine!” Tosh exclaimed, standing from her seat and dithering for a moment as she tried to sort herself out. God, how could she have done this? “I didn’t bring you breakfast! You haven’t eaten. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s left over Pizza in the fridge!” Suzie suddenly called out from her work station. 

“No, we’ll go out.” Tosh decided with a firm nod. “We didn’t yesterday and besides I need a break.”

“You know, if you’re busy, I can just have that pizza...” Ianto hesitated, but Tosh put a hand up to halt him. 

“No. Let me just tell Jack and we’ll go. You must be starving.” Tosh offered him another apologetic smile and slinging her bag over her shoulder, turned towards the closed doors of Jack’s office. 

It was so rare for Jack’s office doors to be closed; when she reached them Tosh had a moment of complete indecision as to what to do. Did she knock? Did she just walk in? Did she knock and walk in? Did she do nothing at all, turn around leave a message with Suzie to relay to Jack when he wasn’t busy? 

Finally deciding on the combination option, Tosh knocked lightly on the door and cracked it open a fraction, peering in. Jack sat at his desk, pen in hand, frown creasing his brow, his entire focus on something on his desk. 

“Umm, Jack?”

“hmm?” Jack responded vaguely before finally looking up. “Tosh? What’s up? You find the source of those power outages?”

“Umm. No.” Tosh admitted, stepping into the room self consciously, hands clasped in front of her and head down, eyes flicking up to meet Jack’s only briefly before dropping again. She couldn’t help it. He was her _boss_. “But you see, I’ve been here all night and I haven’t been out yet to get anything in for Ianto so I was just going to take him out to get something.... If that’s alright?”

She saw it. The momentary hesitation. The flicker across his face that suggested that no, her leaving wasn’t alright. It wasn’t alright because they had a lot of work to do, the Hub wasn’t in proper working order, he was stressed and under pressure with everything that needed doing for the Queen’s arrival, and so her going off to get food for Ianto didn’t rank exceptionally highly on Jack’s list of priorities right now. But then he took a deep breath, leant back and offered a nod and small tight lipped smile. “Sure. Good idea. You need to eat too. Just bring back something for the rest of us will ya?”

“Will do.” Tosh smiled back, relieved. “Thanks. Anything in particular you wanted?”

“The largest, strongest coffee in Cardiff.” Jack sighed sardonically. “And the ability to be two places at once.”

“I think I can manage the coffee, not sure about the other.” Tosh joked back softly. 

“Tosh, if you put your mind to it, you could probably come up with something.” Jack smiled genuinely this time. “But in the meantime that coffee would be great.”

~Tw~wT~

The office of the First Minister for Wales was in a state of barely controlled uproar. Ministers, staff, secretaries and assistants bustled around with the kind of urgency only a large scale civic event could inspire. The only way things could get any more chaotic would be if there was some kind of national emergency. 

Of course, this was all to be expected. The plans had been in place for a long while, and for the most part the various committees had things in hand and everyone knew their jobs. It was just that last minute rush. There was always a last minute rush as everything began slotting into place. As all the groups who’d been happily working away at their various tasks independently came together. 

It wasn’t even The First Minister’s office where all the strands were supposed to meet. But as was the way of things, even if it wasn’t his responsibility to make sure everything went well, the egg would be on his face if it didn’t. That was the price of office. 

Thankfully though, despite some small niggles, everything seemed to be going to plan if the meeting he was currently sat in was anything to go by. 

Leaning back in his chair, the First Minister allowed himself a moment to breathe before standing as the meeting broke up around him. He hadn’t chaired this one. That dubious honour had fallen to the Chief Executive of the Civic Events Committee; the man who was currently walking towards him. 

“Thomas” The First Minister said, holding out his hand. 

“Rhodri,” Thomas returned with a smile, taking the offered hand. “Sorry we didn’t get a chance to catch up before the meeting. How’s the family?”

“Good thanks.” The First Minister replied, “Although they’ll be happier when this is all done and I actually manage to get home.”

“I think my wife would share that sentiment.” Thomas replied. “Look, I have to dash, but I was wondering if you could help me out with something.”

The First Minister frowned and cocked his head to one side. “Problem?”

“Not exactly,” Thomas sighed. “Just got this bloody woman, A Mrs Miggins, hounding my office morning, noon and night going on about the _The Ellis-Mot Foundation?_ ”

“The Elismotte Foundation?” The First Minister’s face paled. “Thom I think you better tell me everything.”

~Tw~wT~

Ianto wrapped his hands around his cup of coffee and looked down into its dark depths. The self service cafeteria at Mermaid Quay wasn’t the most prestigious of eateries, but it tended to appeal to families who’d come down to the quay to shop, and one wall was completely made of glass which gave it a great view out over the bay. 

Not that there was much to see at the moment. Drizzly fog had attached itself to the South Wales coast like a limpet, reducing visibility to a few damp feet, and coating the glass wall of the cafeteria in a fine sheen of droplets. Absently, Ianto lifted his head and watched them slide down the glass; content for the moment to just sit, relaxed, calm and stomach heavy with food.

He was a little embarrassed to be honest; he’d rather wolfed down his breakfast. His empty plate sat off to his left and looking at it, it would be hard to tell it had not so long ago, been piled high with a full cooked breakfast. 

Not that Tosh would likely be judgmental. Ianto didn’t think she had a judgmental bone in her body. And really, she’d been incredibly kind to him over the last nine weeks. Nine weeks. It was mind-blowing to even consider it. He’d been Torchwood’s _guest_ for nine weeks. Longer if he counted the five weeks before that when he’d been unconscious. 

And throughout all the time he’d been at Torchwood and awake, there had been Tosh. 

Volunteering to be the one to ‘escort’ him outside every day so he got fresh air; letting him feel a touch of freedom and just for an hour or so, give him the space to pretend he wasn’t a prisoner. 

Taking him shopping so he had more clothes than the ones she’d originally found for him inside the hub. 

Carrying thoughts like that through, so that once he had clothes, he had the means to get them and his bedding washed. So he had supplies to keep his small room clean and tidy. Helping make a small bookshelf out of the old packing crates and helping him clear out the rest of the crap so he had some room. Bringing him books and stationary, magazines and other things to try and fill his days; without giving him access to a computer of course. Ianto hadn’t been privy to the actual discussion between Tosh and the Captain but he could draw his own conclusions from the way Tosh had broken the news that her plans to get him a computer had come to nothing. 

None of the others had thought of any of it as far as he could tell. Ianto wasn’t sure the Captain wouldn’t be happier keeping him in a cell next to the weevils. But Tosh wasn’t like that, she wasn’t like them. 

She treated him like a human being. She talked to him. She treated him like a friend. 

Even after what he’d done to her. 

It still gave him nightmares sometimes. Remembering that. He’d never thought in a million years he’d be capable of that. Tosh had said she’d forgiven him - that she understood why he’d done it - but it didn’t make it right in his own head. It scared him. Just like the thing, The Pattern, inside him. 

That’s why he didn’t fight. Didn’t complain or even think about escaping. He missed freedom and having a life, of course he did, but the thought of hurting someone outweighed it all. And over the last nine weeks, he’d sort of, _got used_ to it. Got used to the fear and the dark and the tests. Got used to the way Owen talked about him like he wasn’t in the room, and the way that Suzie, when she bothered to acknowledge his presence, looked at him with at best blank apathy, but usually distrust and irritation. Got used to finding ways to avoid the Captain’s ice blue stare; watching him, just waiting for him to make that fatal mistake.

He didn’t need to get used to Tosh. He never felt like a Prisoner, like a specimen, threatened or like a threat with Tosh. He felt normal. In these moments, when they left the Hub and she would talk to him about the latest developments in nano-technology, some crazy event she’d witnessed at the super-market or the incredible bargain she’d found on ebay, he felt human again. 

Now as he looked up from his coffee and caught the look on Tosh’s face; eyes closed, blissed expression, spoon slowly sliding out of her mouth, despite his best efforts, he felt his cheeks and the tops of his ears flame.

Coughing, he grinned. “Enjoying that are you?”

“I was hungry.” Tosh practically whined, dropping her spoon into her empty yogurt pot, and then pointing her finger at him. “And hey, don’t go picking on me Jones, I’m not the one who inhaled his double egg, double bacon, double sausage, beans, hash browns and mushrooms with extra toast breakfast.”

“Entirely your fault.” Ianto deadpanned back, then faked an irritated sigh. “If you hadn’t kept me waiting...”

“Yeah well, I had far more important things to think about.” Tosh sniffed with feigned arrogance, chin in the air. 

“I’m hurt. Truly.” Ianto shook his head, made a sad face and pulled his hand to rest over his heart; the action instantly causing Tosh to snort a laugh and shake her head. 

She sobered quickly though, “I am sorry you know. Next time you need to just come and get me, or one of the others. You’re a human being, you have the right to demand to be fed.”

“Not completely human.” Ianto muttered softly, looking away. 

“Ianto. Nothing Owen has found suggests you’re anything but completely, one hundred percent human.” Tosh gripped Ianto’s fore-arm gently where it rested on the table and gave it a little squeeze, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “If he found something he would tell you. I promise.”

Ianto drew a deep breath through his nose and nodded, glancing quickly away again. God, he wished he could believe that, but then he would remember the glow, and the explosion, the way Owen studied him, the implant in his arm… Change of topic needed. “So, what is it you lot are up to that has you all so busy anyway. Or can’t I know?”

“It’s nothing top top secret.” Tosh sighed, removing her hand from his arm and pulling her coffee round to sit in front of her, stirring her spoon around in the cup absently. “It’s just with the Queen coming on Sunday...”

Ianto frowned and shook his head in confusion. “What does the Queen have to do with Torchwood?” Then suddenly his eyes widened. “She’s not... She’s not an alien is she?”

“What?” Tosh yelped, her spoon clattering loudly in her cup. “No! No... She’s well... you know Jack is our boss right?” Ianto nodded. “Well she’s _His_ boss.”

“The Queen?” Ianto repeated, dumbfounded. “He reports to the Queen? What, in person?”

“Sometimes.” Tosh nodded and shrugged at the same time. “Although I’ve only known him go to London once since I started here. Mostly its phone calls.”

“Captain Jack Harkness. Gets phone calls from the Queen.” Ianto again repeated, his words precise and incredulous. “Why does the idea of them being the same room...”

“Mother Teresa and Katie Price?” Tosh grinned. 

Ianto shook his head. “I was going more for Emily Bishop and Hannibal Lecter.”

“Any-way.” Tosh gave him a look to say they were not going to get into another discussion about the Captain. She had her opinion, and Ianto had his, that was safest place to leave it. “So, how are you getting on with the Sudoku books I got you?” 

“Done.” Ianto shrugged. 

“Already?” Tosh squeaked back. “But those were the really hard ones.”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do.” Ianto shrugged again. It wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t said it to make Tosh feel bad, it was just the truth. “They weren’t that hard. It’s just patterns in the end. I liked the logic puzzles better. Had to actually think about those. Oh, and the cryptic crosswords. Those were quite fun actually.”

Sitting back in her seat, Toshiko gave him a considering look. “You’re bored aren’t you?”

“Beyond bored.” Ianto admitted, “But I’ll cope. Being bored is hardly the worst thing in the world that could happen to me.”

Wasn’t that the truth? He could turn into an alien. He could start slaughtering people. He could become a walking human bomb that could decimate a city. Or as Owen had pointed out, he could become the one person on earth who would never have to worry about the batteries in his TV remote going dead.

“Look.” Tosh cut into Ianto’s thoughts with a serious tone. “I can’t do anything right now, but when this is all over I’ll talk to Jack. See if we can’t get you something to do. If you want that is.”

Ianto thought about it for a moment. It was crazy really. The resentful side of him objected fiercely, knowing that whatever it was he was given to do, would be for the benefit of those who were keeping him locked up in the first place. But the trouble was, when he considered that next to the prospect of his continued boredom, it didn’t seem so unappealing. 

“Thanks.”

~Tw~wT~

The sound of the Cog door claxon made Suzie look up from her computer. A look of relief on her face when she saw Owen and Jack waiting for the cage to open, not a mark on them. There’d been some odd calls to the emergency services all day and once they’d correlated the information, it had become clear they were centred on the same area. Jack had taken Owen out with him, and although Suzie rarely minded being left behind when it came to field work it didn’t mean she didn’t worry. Checking the clock she saw it was coming up to nine o’clock. They hadn’t been out very long, so hopefully it had all gone well.

“So what was it?” She called out, as Jack walked closer. 

“Oh just another alien cow.” He shrugged back, and Suzie’s eyes widened. 

“But that thing this morning was huge, how did you two...”

“ _Baby_ alien cow.” Owen explained, walking in the opposite direction and starting up the stairs towards the conference room, a carrier bag in each hand. “Alien calf? Anyway it was only about the size of a Labrador.”

“Kinda cute actually.” Jack grinned, “Everything ok here?”

“Everything’s fine.” Suzie shook her head, a frown on her face. “So what did you do with the alien calf?”

“The tear it and the bigger one this morning came through was still open, so we chased it back out the way it came in. Hopefully it’ll be back with its mamma, and none the worse for wear.” Jack smiled, a truly kind smile. 

“If anyone at UNIT could see you now your reputation would never survive.” Suzie laughed. 

“Hey.” Jack grumbled as he turned away and made to follow Owen. “Nothing wrong with helping out baby animals.”

“Oi!” Owen suddenly yelled from the upper level. “You lot coming up here or am I gonna have to eat all this Chinese on my own?”

Food. God yes. Food. Looking back to her computer screen as she stood up, Suzie closed down the inventory log she’d been working on and quickly glanced over her emails. One from a contact at UNIT, one from Jack that she’d already dealt with, and oh god, another three from C.Miggins. 

With a frustrated huff, Suzie turned away. When would that woman get the message?


	3. Chapter 3

**Cardiff, November 2004  
Four Days to arrival.**

Jack clicked off the speaker phone in the centre of the conference room table and sat back in his chair. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been expecting the call, because he had. Getting calls from the Queen’s personal secretary really wasn’t that unusual at all, even at eight in the morning. He just wished he’d been able to tell the man honestly that they had everything in hand and weren’t running around like headless chickens trying to make sure they were ready. No, he’d had to lie and he wasn’t entirely sure the Sir Allen had bought it. 

Of course it didn’t help that the man had already been annoyed when he’d called. Jack hated it when he was caught out having dropped the ball. Hated being asked questions he had no answers to. Hated being made to look like he had no idea what was going on inside his own base. 

Standing from the table, Jack stepped through the door and out onto the gantry, sharp eyes scanning the Hub below. When he saw who he needed, he called loudly across the cavernous space, his tone clipped. “Suzie.”

Suzie looked up in surprise at the call of her name, and met Jack’s eyes from her workstation. With a single jerk of his head, Jack let her know he needed to speak to her, and after looking to Tosh who only shrugged, Suzie put down what she working on and began to make her way over. 

Jack didn’t wait for her to reach him. Instead he re-entered the conference room and sat back down. It didn’t take long, and soon enough Suzie was cautiously sliding into the room and standing opposite him. Jack didn’t ask her to sit. 

“I’ve just got off the phone with the Queen’s personal secretary.” He stated calmly, watching Suzie’s face. 

“Is there some kind of problem?” Suzie replied, looking concerned. “Something we missed?”

“You could say that.” Jack sighed, and with a roll of his eyes, gestured for Suzie to sit down. He was actually too tired to be all that angry. He waited until Suzie had settled herself before he continued. “Does the name Christine Miggins mean anything to you?”

Suddenly Suzie’s face pinched, her nostrils flared angrily and she sat back sharply in that seat. “That Bloody woman!”

~Tw~wT~

Owen threw his pencil across his desk and didn’t care when it rolled straight off his workstation and dropped clean out of sight. His computer whined as it rebooted, the lights having flickered just a half second before. Clenching his fists, and rolling his eyes heavenwards, he resisted the urge to trash his desk. “Tosh.”

“I’m trying.” Tosh pleaded. “I’m sorry alright. But I’m trying to do about eight things at once here and you’re not the only one who keeps losing their work you know.”

“Yes, well, none of us would be losing our work if you’d find out what’s happening to the power!” Owen snapped back. 

Tosh ducked her head but was saved from further vitriol when the claxon sounded and both she and Owen looked over at the cog door rolling back. 

Owen frowned. Suzie was back. He didn’t know what was going on but he knew Jack had had words with her that morning. He’d been down in the autopsy pit running tests on Ianto at the time, but he’d heard Jack’s shout and it hadn’t taken a genius to work out he was less than happy. Although that being said, being less than happy had been the status quo for Jack the last few days. 

He had no idea what words had been exchanged. There hadn’t been any shouting he was sure of that, so it couldn’t have been that bad. Anyway, whatever had been said, Suzie had appeared in the autopsy pit not long after, pretty much ordered him to stop his tests and dragged Ianto out of there. Owen wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

Now she was back, and sure enough there was Ianto in tow. Carrying a lot of bags. His head down and looking deeply uncomfortable. There was something different about him, although for the life of him he had no idea what. Not that it mattered. Still it was weird. And what was with all the bags?

“What? Jack has a go at her, and she drags glow boy out to carry her shit while she does a bit of retail therapy?” Owen snorted as he watched the pair disappear from view. 

“She wouldn’t do that.” Tosh muttered quietly, then her face creased and she looked over at Owen. “Would she?”

“Well he’s got to be useful for something right?” Owen shook his head and looked away, back up at his screen. 

He could feel Tosh’s disapproval at his comment rolling off her in waves, but what did he care? There they all were, working their bollocks off to make sure they got everything done. The least glow boy could do was keep Suzie occupied. A random thought trickled through Owen’s mind, likely inspired by the fact that he hadn’t got laid in nearly a week and he frowned. 

No, Suzie wouldn’t do that would she? She had a cold side that Suzie, but wouldn’t do _that_. Surely not. No. They were all a little warped down here but none of them would do _that_. Not even Jack. 

Best not to think about it. His computer was back up and running and he had work to do. Glancing at the empty document, he groaned at seeing that at least half an hour’s worth of work was gone, and with a huff, started again. 

He’d just made it down to H on his list of known alien diseases that they had treatments for when he heard Tosh squeak. 

Pulling his attention away from his work unintentionally, he rolled his eyes at the technician then did a double take. 

Not at Tosh, but at the young man stood beside Suzie who had reappeared from the lower levels. “Blimey.”

Behind him, Owen felt rather than saw Jack emerge from his office. 

If Ianto looked about as uncomfortable as it was physically possible for a human being to be before, now he looked like he literally would rather be anywhere else on the planet than stood in the middle of the Hub. Perhaps even a different planet altogether. He kept fidgeting with his hands, unsure where to put them until finally he shoved them into the pockets of his trousers.

His brand new suit trousers, that matched the brand new charcoal grey suit jacket, crisp white shirt and rather placid dark red tie. Oddly the look suited him, but combined with the facial expression...

Owen couldn’t help himself. He laughed. And had to hide his face behind his hand to escape the increased look of discomfort and mortification on Ianto’s face. 

“When I asked you to find a solution to our Mrs Miggins problem,” Jack drawled from where he leant against the wall. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Then he paused and cast Suzie an enquiring look. “This _is_ your solution to the Mrs Miggins problem right? Not that I mind per-say but if it’s not then I’m pretty sure we have rules about playing dress up with the prisoners.”

“Like that would stop you.” Owen snorted, catching Tosh’s eye but only getting a glare back in return. Bloody hell she was like a mamma bear with its cub when it came to Ianto. It was then that Owen suddenly realised something that had been said, something he didn’t quite get. “Hang on, who is Mrs Miggins and why do we have a problem with her?”

“She’s a self important busy body from the Welsh Tourist Board.” Suzie huffed. “With the opening of the millennium centre she got a bee in her bonnet about the tourist office and wouldn’t let it go.”

“When she didn’t get the response she wanted out of Suzie” Jack picked up the thread with a shrug, “She decided to start harassing the chief executive of the civic events committee, who then had words with the first minister for Wales, who had words with the queen’s personal secretary...”

Owen groaned. “...Who then had words with you. Gotcha.”

“So, does this mean you’re giving Ianto a job in the tourist office?” Tosh spoke up, clearly pleased and excited. 

“That’s the idea.” Suzie grinned in satisfaction. “She gets her tourist office, we get left alone. Perfect.” 

“And since he’s technically a prisoner, he doesn’t have much of a choice and we don’t even have to pay him.” Owen noted sarcastically. “Fantastic, I always wanted to have ‘abetted in the use of slave labour’ on my CV. It would sit just so well between my medical licence and fire arms training certificates.” 

“Enough.” Jack cut in. “Everyone back to work. Suzie, a word.” Having indicated his office with a hooked thumb, Jack pointed at Ianto. “You. Stay there.”

~Tw~wT~

Throwing himself into his chair behind his desk, Jack looked at Suzie as she came to stand on the other side. He studied her calm and self assured face. Practical, pragmatic, confident. These were all Suzie’s traits. She was a fantastic second in command because of them. She was an independent thinker, an accomplished level headed problem solver. And ninety-nine percent of the time he would trust her judgement explicitly. She’d proved herself time and time again over the last two and half years since they’d met.

This time though... He sighed. “I assume you had a reason for this, coz when I said deal with Mrs Miggins, I kinda meant literally.”

“No you didn’t.” Suzie countered with a knowing look, shaking her head. “You wanted me to find a tidy non-violent solution. Well, that’s what I did.”

“Explain how this is tidy!” Jack challenged, slamming his hand down on to the table. For a long second he held Suzie’s unperturbed gaze, then looked away, slumping back in his chair. He hadn’t meant to shout at her but he was tired. He had a teleconference with Mi5 in half an hour, Tosh hadn’t found the problem with the power and as a result half the reports he needed for said conference weren’t finished, the Queen would be in Cardiff in four days and now there was this. “Do you have any idea how badly this could blow up in our faces?”

“Jack. I’m suggesting we let him work in the tourist office, not join the team.” Suzie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Look, we need Mrs Miggins off our backs, none of us have the time to open up the office, but what we _do_ have is spare body floating around doing very little except creating paper work and generally being a distraction. We can’t release him, but we can’t keep him locked in a cell either, we all know how that turned out. Why _not_ give him something to do that will keep him out of the way?”

“Too much could go wrong.” Jack shook his head. “We know nothing about him. Who knows what he’d do if he we gave him more freedom.” 

Suzie huffed and levelled Jack with an impatient stare. “Oh please. He’s so terrified of you he’d probably cut off his own arm rather than get on your bad side. All we need to do is make a few updates to the security systems and let him know what will happen if he steps out of line. Not that I think he will.”

Jack let out a long breath through his nose and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t like it. The whole scenario twanged at his instincts and sat uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach but Suzie was right in many respects. They didn’t have much choice. They needed a solution, they needed one fast, and as she’d also rightly pointed out, he’d rather find a solution that wasn’t violent or distressingly permanent for Mrs Miggins; no matter how much of an irritant she was.

But when it came to Ianto, the not knowing was driving him crazy. It was like constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’d read Tosh’s reports, listened intently to all the briefings she and Owen had given on their research, but all they’d really told him was that the Pattern was slowly reducing in intensity and that so far they hadn’t found any signs that it had physically changed Ianto in any way. 

The universe was never that kind. Life was never that simple. People did not get zapped by gigajoules of unknown energy from an unknown likely alien source and walk away from it unaffected. They just didn’t. As much as Jack fervently hoped for Ianto’s sake that it could be so, the Welshman’s condition was, quite frankly, too good to be true. 

And yet, if Ianto was going to turn into a raging monster or human time bomb, inside or outside the Hub would it really make much difference? He was on a leash - it wasn’t like they wouldn’t know where he was - and either way they would have to deal with it. So no, it wouldn’t make much difference. All Jack could really hope for was that Ianto would wait until after Sunday. 

Turning his head, Jack peered through the glass panelled doors of his office out into the Hub. Ianto wasn’t standing where they’d left him, but was sat on a spare seat at Tosh’s station, talking quietly to the computer genius. Standing, he kept his gaze on the Welshman and crossed to the door, feeling Suzie come to stand beside him.

He didn’t like this. But really, what choice did he have? 

“Jack?”

“Sort out the security system, give Tosh a list of everything you need and make sure Ianto knows exactly what I’ll do to him if he puts a foot out of line.” Jack conceded reluctantly, not turning to look at his second. 

“You worry too much.” Suzie chuckled, but Jack could hear the relief in her voice. 

“Somebody has to.”Still not looking at her, Jack kept his gaze on Ianto, his head tilting to the side just slightly as he studied him. “Good choice with the suit by the way.”

Just at that moment, Ianto looked away from Tosh and clearly unexpectedly his eyes met Jack’s. 

Beside the Captain, Suzie smirked.

~Tw~wT~

Ianto looked around the dusty tourist office and slipped his hands into the pockets of his Jeans. He’d changed out of his new suit the minute he’d made it back down to his room. He’d only bought three suits during the most uncomfortable shopping trip in history - well Suzie had bought three suits. it wasn’t like Ianto had access to any money – and given what he knew the afternoon would entail, he hadn’t wanted to get the one he’d been wearing dirty before tomorrow.

To be honest, he was trying to put most of the earlier part of the day out of his mind. It was too confusing and humiliating. Of course while they’d been out Suzie had outlined what she wanted from him, and he’d already admitted to Tosh he wouldn’t mind being given something to do.  
But it was just that if being dragged around Marks and Spencer with Suzie’s appraising eye watching every move he made wasn’t bad enough, she’d then insisted on dragging him to a hair-dressers (not a barbers, there wasn’t one of those within the confines set by the implant) where she’d given instruction on how she wanted his hair to look. As he’d sat there under the curious and amused gazes of the salon staff as fourteen weeks of growth had been hacked off the top of his head, Suzie had vanished only to come back with a watch, leather wallet and pair of black leather gloves. The titters of the salon staff still rang in his ears. 

When they’d returned to the Hub it was even worse. She’d insisted he change into one of his suits; been very specific about which one too. Yes, he could admit it was the best of the three, but now he had an understanding as to _why_ she’d been so specific, it made him squirm in discomfort. Being paraded out like that in front of the Torchwood team had been mortifying. And then there’d been that look the Captain had shot through his office window. 

There had been something in it. He couldn’t pin it down but it had pierced right through him. He hadn’t realised his face and ears could actually burn that hot. 

No he didn’t want to think about it. It was a side to the man he wasn’t ready to deal with. It was bad enough when he was just the monster in the shadows; heartless, cold, indifferent and more than capable of violence. This, whatever it was he’d seen in the Captain’s expression, just twisted things up in ways he didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he wanted to. 

He just needed to focus on the job at hand. Technically speaking he wouldn’t be starting work in the tourist office until the following morning, but he’d seen the office as he’d come and gone for his daily outings and he knew it was going to take more than a day to get it presentable if it was supposed to be opened by the time the Millennium Centre celebrations started on Friday. 

Rocking back and forth on heels, Ianto waited patiently as Suzie did something to his access card. When she was done, she pulled it out of the little machine she was holding and held it out to him. 

“There. That should let you move back and forwards from the Hub. You’re not on the staff database so Tosh has configured the security system to recognise the signal from your implant to give you access. The card alone won’t do it. It should still work on the doors down to your room, but check it and let me know.” Suzie explained, then stepped around the dusty counter and pointed to the large red button attached to the back. “You’ve seen this before yes?”

Ianto nodded.

“Right well, just like access cards, this works in conjunction with the security cameras and bio scanners as part of the security system. We’ve had to recalibrate it to take into account your unique circumstances, so if there’s anyone else in here with you, who isn’t one of us, and you press it, nothing will happen. Nothing ever happens if the system doesn’t recognise who’s pressed the button. In both cases an alarm will sound in the Hub.” Suzie explained bluntly. 

Ianto smiled a very small smile at that, and didn’t feel an ounce of it. So, extra security systems in place just case he planned on letting his little green men friends in through the front door. 

“The outside door locks on activation,” Suzie continued, then pointed to the section of wall that was really a door, “That door closes on time lock. It’s quite a small window and re-release is a thirty second cool-down, so don’t dawdle.” 

Slipping her hand into her pocket she pulled out something else. A Key. “This is for the outside door. If you get locked out for some reason, then the intercom on the wall outside does actually work even if it doesn’t look like it. If you lose it I suggest running and taking your chances with the implant. It’ll likely be kinder to you than Jack will be.”

“Understood” Ianto nodded again, swallowing thickly as he took the key from Suzie’s hand and slipped it into his pocket. 

“Last but no means least.” Suzie sighed, rummaging in her pocket again, and this time pulling out what looked like a bank card wrapped in a scrap of paper. “You don’t need us to let you in and out anymore so you can sort yourself out for food and essentials and you can use this for anything else you think you need for this place, you know, cleaning supplies, light bulbs, stationary. If you can’t get it in the quay, order online and get it delivered... It’ll work in an ATM if you need cash and the pin is on the paper. Don’t go mad, and keep your receipts. Jack isn’t happy about this, so he’ll be keeping a very close eye on your spending. He hates doing the books and if you make his life difficult he will have no qualms about returning the favour. Any questions?”

A little dumbstruck, Ianto shook his head. 

“Good.” Suzie smiled, “I’ll leave you to it.”

Ianto watched as Suzie hit the entry button and slipped through the hidden door, leaving him alone in the dusty disused space. 

Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he wondered where the hell he was meant to start.


	4. Chapter 4

**Cardiff November 2004  
Three days to Arrival.**

Tosh glanced up from her workstation and rubbed tiredly at her eyes. It was gone one in the morning. Owen had given up and stormed out of the Hub mumbling obscenities about the Queen about an hour ago. Jack was once again tucked into his office, door closed. Suzie had fallen asleep at her terminal. 

She could do that herself. Just fold her arms onto her desk, lay down her head and... 

Tosh blinked as her head jerked back up. Apparently she wouldn’t even need to lay her head down. If she could just get this cross referencing done, she’d go home. She had various programs up and running now to monitor the power situation. There was nothing else she could really do on that front. That just left the actual work Jack had asked her to complete for the Queen’s visit. 

Just a few more events to input into the program. She could do that. 

Her head jerked again when a warm hand came to rest on her shoulder. Blinking rapidly, she looked around and stared confusedly up at the face of her Captain. He looked about as tired as she felt. 

His mouth opened as if to say something, but it never emerged. Instead his eyes turned upwards as the lights flickered then failed, the emergency lighting bathing the central Hub in a red glow. All around the sound of doors closing and lock’s engaging thudded through the Hub. 

At her terminal, Suzie jolted awake, but Tosh ignored her. Instead her fingers flew over the keys of her keyboard, data flashing across the screens before her. 

“Again?” Suzie groaned, looking at her own terminal. “Secure Reset. The main power grid is back online but we’re in lockdown.”

“Tosh?” Jack didn’t have to say more to let her know what he wanted. He wanted answers; he wanted her to fix this. Or at least find the problem. 

“One minute.” Tosh tried to put him off, grateful at least that she’d installed a back-up power supply for own computers. It wasn’t designed to last long, just long enough to keep the power-flow constant while they had an outage. On her screens her monitoring programs were working overtime. There. There she had it. “I’ve got it!”

Jack who’d wondered across to Suzie, practically ran back. “What have you got?”

“I know what’s causing the outages.” Tosh beamed, “It’s not a faulty system or a short somewhere... It’s being stolen. Jack our power is being drained from right out of the Hub.”

~Tw~wT~

Owen squinted along the beam of light projecting from his torch, his hand-gun balanced on top as he made his careful way down one of the lower tunnels. 

This part of the Hub was a maze. A veritable rabbit warren. Filled with junk, debris and other things he’d rather not think about. To say he hated it down here would be an understatement. But as usual Jack had called and he’d obeyed. Alright so technically that was his job, and he did feel a little bit guilty about the fact that he’d managed a few decent hours sleep last night when it was abundantly clear that the others had only likely managed to fit in two maybe three, if they’d slept at all. Didn’t mean he had to let anyone else know that. Nor did it mean he was happy about this current excursion. 

“So what exactly are we looking for again?” Owen asked with a grimace. Whatever he’d just stepped in had squelched. God he hoped it wasn’t alive. You never knew with Torchwood.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Tosh’s voice came over his ear piece. “Maybe a piece of tech, random cables going to nowhere. Or it could be a life form. I don’t know.”

“Great.” Owen muttered darkly. “And whatever this is that we’re looking for, that’s what’s been stealing our power? This isn’t some hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation is it? Coz if it is...”

“I checked the readings four times.” Tosh huffed indignantly. “Something is definitely draining our power. Each time from a separate system.”

“So it’s moving.” Owen sighed.

“Or it’s tapped into a junction box somewhere. These schematics are a mess. Cross wiring. Power feeds taken from separate systems to augment new ones. I’m sorry. I can’t be more specific.”

“Deep joy. God it’s a dump down here.” 

“Quit your bitching Owen.” Jack’s voice suddenly broke into the conversation. “We’re all in the same boat here.”

“Boat being the operative word, Captain.” Owen sniped back. “And this one’s sinking. If this water gets any higher down here I’ll be wading.”

“Junction box A3-181. Clear.” Suzie’s voice cut in. 

“Move on to A3 -173. Should be just down the corridor, on your right.” Tosh directed. 

“Remind me after we get through this weekend to organise a ‘clear out the tunnels’ week.” Jack sighed over the com. 

“And suddenly I feel a sicky coming on.” Owen groaned as he spied a box mounted on the wall up ahead. Stepping towards it, he used his fore-arm to wipe the muck from the front panel. 

“Tosh?” He asked. “B17-23F? Does that sound right to you?”

“Are you sure?” Tosh’s reply came across the line, her voice doubtful. 

Owen looked at the stamp on the front panel again. “Yep. That’s what it says.” 

“But that can’t be right.” Tosh moaned in disbelief. “According to the schematics that’s on the other side of the Hub!”

“Ah, you gotta love the way this place was put together.” Jack chuckled down the com. “A hundred years of ‘stick it anywhere’ and ‘I don’t care how it’s fixed as long as it was fixed yesterday’. Which considering we’re on a rift in space and time isn’t all that impossible.”

“So what you’re saying is that Tosh’s schematic is about as helpful as a chastity belt in a brothel?”

“That’s about it.”

“Lovely.”

~Tw~wT~

Standing on the boardwalk outside the entrance to the tourist office, Ianto Jones stamped his feet and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his long black coat to ward of the November chill. The weather had turned in the last couple of days; the rain had eased but now there was a bitter wind coming in off the sea. The kind of wind that made him really miss the hair he’d had cut off yesterday. Not even the turned up collar of his coat could protect his newly exposed ears, and he just knew his cheeks would be bright red against his pale complexion. 

He should have brought those gloves Suzie had bought him. He knew why he’d left them behind though. It was a bit petty, but damn it gloves were a bit like underwear. OK. Not as personal as underwear, but still you didn’t buy gloves for people unless you were close and the idea of wearing them felt strange. 

The fact that Suzie had had final say on everything he’d chosen for himself yesterday meant that she had pretty much selected every item of clothing he was wearing right now with the sole exception of his underpants. She’d even chosen his socks. 

Was he resentful? Yes. Should he be? Probably not. Oh Jesus Christ it was cold. 

Reluctantly pulling his hand from the warm confines of his pocket, Ianto checked his watch (also chosen by Suzie). Dead on 9am. He was nervous. Why was he nervous? It wasn’t like this was an actual interview. The woman he was about to meet couldn’t refuse him the job no matter how she might dislike him. That was part of the complicated contractual arrangement The Tourist Board had with Torchwood.

No. He needed to be careful here. Not Torchwood. The Elismotte Foundation. He was an employee of the Elismotte Foundation. And as such she could not fire him. But since he’d have to work with her, he’d rather she didn’t loath his very existence. Still no need to be nervous. He was good at interviews. He should be; he’d been doing them since he was fourteen. Did that first meeting with Mr Singh at the newsagent count as an interview? Probably not, but the one at Smiths when he was fifteen had definitely been one. Ianto found himself smiling bemusedly at the memory. He’d gone in his school uniform because they’d been the smartest clothes he’d had. 

Tucking his hands under his armpits, he started to bounce on his toes, eyes closed, head tilted back as he blew out his breath slowly through chattering teeth. 

It was the click of heels on the boardwalk that made him open his eyes again. A tall, slender woman, middle aged with extremely precise hair in a tan coloured coat was striding towards him with a face like she’d just attempted to suck on a mouthful of sour lemons. Oh this would be fun. 

Putting on his best professional smile, Ianto held out his hand as she drew up to him. “Hi. Mrs Miggins?”

“Hmm.” The woman looked Ianto up and down. “And you must be what Elismotte sent over.”

“Ianto Jones.” Ianto provided, smile still pinned in place. 

“Well at least you’re Welsh.” The woman remarked, clearly not impressed. “I’m told you have the key?”

“Ah, yes. Yes I do.” Ianto replied, fishing in his coat pocket and retrieved said key, holding it aloft. The action clearly didn’t win him any brownie points as the woman continued to look at him like his existence was mildly offensive. The look only increased in intensity as the moment dragged. Right. Engage brain, do something useful. Stepping over to the door, he unlocked it and held it open. “Please, come in.”

“I shouldn’t need to be invited into one of my own offices Mr Jones.” Mrs Miggins bit out as she crossed the threshold. 

Stray thoughts about vampires crossed Ianto’s mind, and with her back now to him, Ianto dropped the smile and rolled his eyes. 

Deep breath. Smile back on. 

“Please, let me show you around Mrs Miggins.”

This was going to be a long morning.

~Tw~wT~

“K9-221077. Clear”

“I’d call this a wild goose chase, but I doubt geese could survive down here.”

Suzie couldn’t help herself. She snorted. “I think the only thing that could survive down here would be Weil’s disease.”

“Yeah that and any number of other nasty bugs that love stale water, filth and mould.” Owen replied over the com. “Although Weil’s disease comes from rat piss, and most of the rats down here are dead. Oh no, tell a lie, that’s a living one.”

“You have live rats?” Jack asked with humour in his voice. “I’m actually jealous. I just get these occasional crunches under my boots.”

“Urrgh.” Suzie moaned in disgust, her own steps becoming a little more careful. “Thanks for that Jack.”

“I’ll have bio-hazard bags on standby for your clothes when you get back up.” Tosh spoke up kindly. “And you’ll be happy to know our boiler is gas powered, so lots of hot water for the showers.”

“Oh a Shower.” Suzie sighed in blissful contemplation as she waded through the ankle deep filth, the light of her torch trained on the wall mounted cables she was following. “A hot cup of coffee and doughnut wouldn’t go a miss either.”

“You can think about food?” Jack grimaced. “G12-7854. Clear. How many more Tosh?”

Tosh made a noise down the com that could easily be interpreted as ‘why did you have to ask me that?’ “I have no idea. I stopped bothering with the schematic an hour ago and have been trying to draw a new one as you go along. No wonder I couldn’t track down the fault. Jack, seriously, do you think the budget could stretch to a complete re-wiring?”

Jack let out a hissing sigh. “It might have to. I’m at a dead end. Tosh why am I at a dead end?”

“Umm.” Tosh replied. “Let me look. Oh... sorry. Tunnel collapse. 1964. Head back the way you came about fifteen metres and there should be a turning on your left. That should take you under the morgue to the backup generators. Well I say should...”

“Right, for all we know he could end up in Narnia” Owen laughed. 

“I thought Narnia was reached through a closet?” Jack mused out loud.

“I’m leaving that one well alone.” Owen chuckled. “HG5-21B. Clear.”

Quiet drifted over the coms again. It was a pattern that had repeated over the last few hours of searching. A few minutes of conversation, then a stretch of quiet until finally one of them got fed up of the dark, damp and filth and would say something. Usually it was Owen, but as time had dragged on, even Jack’s focus had failed slightly and the bitter edge of frustrated aggravation had begun to creep into his tone. Suzie supposed it didn’t help that this little expedition had exposed a fundamental weakness in Torchwood Three’s base of operations. 

That weakness being that the place was a dump. For decade after decade it seemed the Hub had only received any real TLC or maintenance when something went wrong, leading to a number of bodge it jobs and metaphorical sticking plasters being used to patch up aging infrastructure. What had Owen said? This place was held together with spit and cellotape? He wasn’t wrong. 

Spit, cellotape and little flashing lights. Suzie blinked, unsure whether or not the ammonia vapours were playing havoc with her eyesight. No, definitely flashing lights. Just around the next corner. “Guys, I think I have something.”

“What is it?” Jack asked, but it was hard to hear him over the splashing she was making as she hurried to the corner. “Suzie be careful.”

Clearly Jack had heard her splashing too. 

Pausing at the corner, Suzie remembered herself. She was so eager to get out she’d almost forgotten basic field training. Still, she _was_ eager to get out, and she wasn’t about to wait. Stepping out, she aimed her gun down the passageway. Nothing. At least, no great hulking alien life form. Just a box, part way up the wall that was the source of the flashing she’d seen. 

“There’s some kind of device attached one of the junction boxes.”

She stepped closer, aiming her torch at the box. It was... It was beautiful. Not in the way something could be beautiful because it was carefully crafted to look beautiful, but beautiful in the way someone had pieced together all sorts of random objects to create something completely new. “It’s... It seems to be made of parts of household electricals.”

“Say that again?”

“There seems to be... yes that’s a circuit board from a flat screen TV, a PC Motherboard. Well at least the part with the processor. Maybe something out of a microwave, a dishwasher.” Suzie explained in clear wonder. 

“How can you be so sure?” Owen asked seriously. “It might just look like those things I mean...”

“Intel, Hotpoint, Philips, Sony, all the parts are branded!” Suzie exclaimed. Something caught her eye and she reached out. “Hold on, what is that under there?”

“Suzie don’t touch it!”

As her fingers made contact with the strangely organic amalgam of contemporary electrical components, something happened that Suzie did not expect. It moved. 

And then it leapt. 

The world went white.

~Tw~wT~

“What do you mean, it moved?”

Jack leant with his fore-arms resting on the rail around the autopsy pit and stared down angrily at his second in command. Her scream was still ringing in his ears. Why was it that it seemed he had to remind his team every other day not to touch strange tech or unknown life forms? Had he actually managed to find three people who all shared the same kind of innate curiosity driven death-wish? 

It had taken them over an hour to find her. An hour that felt like an eternity in the darkness of the lowest tunnels. And then when they had. Seeing her lying there in the water, pale as a ghost. God, he hated losing people. It was his curse to always lose people, but not so soon. He’d sworn when he’d taken over that he would do everything in his power to raise the average shelf life of his employees, and damn it they weren’t helping him. 

“Like I said.” Suzie replied tiredly from where she sat on the edge of the autopsy table. Owen wasn’t happy about letting her sit up, but even he had to admit the table wasn’t the most comfortable thing to lie on. “When I touched it, it moved. It twitched, like if you pet a sleeping cat I suppose. And then it just... leapt at me.”

“Well you’ve got no marks to indicate a physical attack, but all the symptoms of having received a high voltage electric shock. Similar to what you’d get from a stun gun or a tazer.” Owen supplied as he looked over his clip board. 

“Some form of self defence mechanism?” Jack mused out loud. 

“Maybe.” Suzie deferred, then she shook her head. “Jack you should have seen it. It was amazing. So intricately put together.”

“Yeah well, it was gone by the time we got there but it’s still in the Hub somewhere, so maybe I’ll get my chance.” Jack replied darkly, “But don’t expect me not to destroy it. I get pissy when things attack my people.” 

Owen snorted. “I’d be less worried by the extra from Batteries Not Included, and more worried about your own health Suzie. You’re done. Twenty four hours medical leave. Uh Uh” Owen cut Suzie off when she went to protest. “You need to take it easy. And when I say easy I mean no stress, no strenuous activity, no sex, not even a hot bath or a scary movie. Nothing to raise your heart rate. Go home, watch a chick flick, eat ice-cream and sleep.”

“Wow. Not every day you hear a doctor give you that kind of prescription.” Jack laughed. “Although the no sex part...”

“Save it Harkness.” Owen shook his head. 

“Are you getting all soft on me Owen?” Suzie laughed. 

Owen’s face suddenly didn’t look even the remotest bit amused. “If you’d landed on your front instead of your back you would have drowned. Forgive me if I would rather err on the side of caution and not have a patient I ran fucking miles through fucking sewage to save die because she couldn’t put her fucking feet up.”

“Owen. Back off.” Jack warned. There was something with those two. Owen was a loose cannon anyway, but Suzie knew every button to press. Owen would never admit to it, but Jack remembered what he’d seen and heard down in that tunnel. It wasn’t just _Suzie’s_ scream that rang in his ears. Owen had been a few feet in front of him and when he’d turned the corner, in the shadows and torchlight they’d both thought they’d lost her. Owen’s reaction hadn’t been what Jack had expected. “Suzie. You heard the Doctor, go home. We’ll pick up here.”

Both parties nodded, and Suzie slipped off the table, climbing the stairs under their watchful gazes and finally stepping out of view. When she was out of sight, and Jack was fairly certain out of earshot, he sighed and relaxed. 

“Did you see it?” He finally asked. 

Still looking down at his clipboard, Owen nodded. “Only for a second. It was right on top of her. Just sitting there. Skittered off down the tunnel when I came round the corner.”

“I need to know what that thing is. Where it came from, what it’s doing.” Jack sighed. 

“Yeah well, don’t ask me.” Owen groused. “I deal with the organic, not the robotic.”

“Guess this is another job for Tosh then.” 

When the two men’s eyes met, Jack saw the flicker there behind the pain and bitterness that had prompted him to ask Owen to join them in the first place. The compassion. The doctor in him. He was thinking exactly what Jack was thinking. Tosh did not need anything else added to her already very full plate.


	5. Chapter 5

**Cardiff, November 2004  
Two days to Arrival**

 

Jack woke at his desk. Sticky eyed and stiff. His face buried in the crook of one bent elbow. 

He didn’t actually remember falling asleep. But then again it was hardly surprising he didn’t remember. After all, if he was tired enough to fall asleep at his desk, he likely wasn’t exactly switched on before he got there.

In the past he’d told a comfortable lie. Back when his condition, his immortality, had been common knowledge amongst those he worked with, discussed and revealed between them without his knowledge or consent; making him something less than human in their eyes. He’d learnt quickly to keep what he could to himself and in some ways it was just easier to tell people when they questioned the fact that he had no home, no flat, nothing beyond a camp bed in a store-room in the lower levels, that he didn’t sleep, or at least he didn’t need much of it. Easier than trying to explain the conditioning he’d received from the Time Agency meant to help in the event that sleep deprivation was used against him. Or about his nightmares. 

Besides, it was only half a lie. He could, and quite often did, function with little or no sleep for long stretches of time. There were times though when it would catch up with him, when his body would demand and he would be powerless to do anything but obey. Like after dying. It struck him as ironic but his body always craved sleep after death. And of course after long periods of physical exertion. 

No deaths in almost a year now. That was getting on for a record while working at Torchwood. As for periods of physical exertion, well none recently of the kind he’d like. The dull ache throughout his frame however reminded him that in his not so distant past there had been something far less pleasant. Trudging around, hour after hour after hour in dark dank tunnels. Running, sprinting, slipping and sliding through muck and mud in a desperate attempt to reach a silent Suzie. Carrying his second through the same tunnels, trying to keep his balance, his weight and hers. His clothes sopping wet and his toes going numb in the cold. More trudging. More Hours of fruitless searching. 

Jack moaned into his arm and then let out a pained groan as he forced protesting muscles to obey, sitting up slowly. He rubbed at his eyes, and checking his watch he saw it was half six in the morning. Blinking to clear the sleep from his vision, he moved his arm and tried to focus on whatever it was he had fallen asleep working on. Or maybe he hadn’t been working on anything. Maybe he’d sat down with the intention of working and just dropped. It was possible.

Trying to guess what he’d intended to work on wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever tried to do. His desk seemed to have disappeared under a sea of paper, with only a few islands of sanity peeking through. A tall desk lamp, his coral, a 2 foot tall statue of an obscure goddess from an even obscurer planet. Beneath where his head had rested was a drawing. Or at least a copy of a drawing. Suzie had faxed it over at some point the previous evening, clearly having spent a good amount of time she should have been resting, attempting to re-create on paper what she had seen in the tunnels. 

It wasn’t a work of art. But then Suzie wasn’t an artist. What she was, was an engineer, and it showed in the details and annotations provided explaining the parts she remembered. Crab like with four legs and two arms, or maybe they were mandibles? Jack curled his lip. It was not a nice looking doo-hicky whatever it was. Not scary looking really, just creepy. All made of cannibalised domestic electricals and vaguely arachnid in shape. 

On the edge of the page, there were some notes of his own. His handwriting - usually quite elegant and flowing from years of having to use nib and ink - was scrawled and scratchy looking. He vaguely remembered doing it, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember all the random crap that had been floating through his mind the night before. 

A quick scan and Jack realised that random crap was probably the most apt description going. At one point he’d written ‘I Hate Spiders’ in big letters, then drawn little spiders crawling around the words. There was a spider web inside top loop of the first S. 

Some of what he’d scribbled was slightly more insightful. He’d jotted down all that they knew about the _whatever-it-was_ , into two lists; one for evidence of sentience, and one for evidence that it was a tool of some kind. There were also a number of questions. 

_Who has skill to build?  
Why spare parts?  
Spare parts = self-repair? Self-replication?_

Jack grimaced, the idea of little self-replicating robots chowing down on high voltage electricity and tearing up kitchen appliances for spare parts as they spread across the globe was more than a little disturbing. Jack loved technology, he just wasn’t a fan of the apparently almost universal human obsession with giving it a mind of its own. 

He needed coffee. He needed it to be Monday. Either the previous Monday so he could do the week over with the full use of hindsight or the following Monday, so the weekend would be over and he could go back to feeling like he was actually in control. Of course, since neither was actually possible without either Doctorly intervention or buggering about with the rift, he’d settle for coffee. And lots of it. 

Pushing away from his desk, Jack stood and stretched; white t-shirt, braces off his shoulders and feet clad only in socks. He looked down and wiggled his toes, confused. Then he remembered; for his second foray into the tunnels he’d found a pair of stout rubber boots. Not the warmest but definitely waterproof. He’d discarded them somewhere in the central Hub along with a waterproof coat he’d also pulled out of a store. He’d have to find them and clean them at some point. There had to be something, somewhere in the rulebook about the boss not having to clean shit off his own shoes.

Wishful thinking. Coffee. 

Shuffling out of his office, Jack made his way past the couch and then turned through the archway leading into the back rooms. Turn right, down two steps, turn left. The showers, lockers, toilets and an access to the lower levels lay further down the corridor, but the room he wanted was the first door on the left. 

Pushing it open, Jack stopped dead in his tracks, squinted against the stark brightness of the strip light bouncing off the white Formica cupboards and cabinets, white painted walls, and black and white checkerboard linoleum flooring. 

At the far end of the kitchen, Ianto also froze, bowl held up at chest height, spoon half way to his open mouth. Fully dressed in a dark suit, there was a napkin tucked into the collar of his crisp white shirt, and peeking out below it was a jewel blue tie. The vague thought passed through Jack’s mind that the red tie he’d seen the day before yesterday had suited him better. And then he momentarily paused to wonder where the hell Ianto Jones had found a napkin. 

Ianto’s spoon dropped back into his bowl with a clink. The napkin disappeared into a suit jacket pocket, the steaming mug on the counter was snatched up, and before Jack had really processed the fact that Ianto was ever there, the young man had scooted past him. 

Pooft. Gone. 

Coffee. The kettle was still warm. He clicked the switch, found a mug, dropped two heaped spoonfuls into the bottom from the almost empty jar of Tesco own brand instant coffee and leant back against the counter. 

His eyes swept over the kitchen as the kettle rumbled behind him. Something was different. Slowly he turned full circle. There was something missing. 

Then it clicked. Not something, a lot of _somethings_. Mugs, plates, packets, carrier-bags, boxes, cutlery, scrunched up dish towels. There were no dishes in the sink. Between the four of them they usually kept the kitchen fairly clean unless the world was ending, but never this tidy. The counter tops were bare apart from the jar of instant coffee, box of tea-bags and a bag of sugar carefully placed up against the wall near the kettle, and a plate, a knife and a tub of margarine neatly laid out near the toaster. 

The toaster which chose that moment to make a grating rattle and a half hearted attempt to eject its contents. The smell of the toast wafted invitingly through the small space. 

Jack’s stomach growled.

~Tw~wT~

7:15am

Quick trip outside. 

The Plass was heaving with activity, workmen and officials milling around as they were setting up for the first day of the opening weekend festivities. Ianto had to wonder if agreeing to this was the best idea he’d ever had. Seeing the Captain in the kitchen this morning had rattled him and after spending the previous day in a kind of denial, throwing himself into what he needed to do, he now found himself remembering why it was that he’d wound up working in a tourist office in Cardiff in the first place. Too late now he supposed. 

He needed to finish up the last few things inside, and take his bowl and cup back downstairs. 

Stepping back into the Tourist Office, he smiled to find Tosh gazing around with a grin on her face. 

8:30am

Last minute rush. 

Checking, checking and rechecking the displays and racks. Straightening the stacks of leaflets and shelves of brochures. Ianto still wasn’t entirely convinced about the souvenir ashtrays, but they were in the boxes of stock delivered yesterday so he assumed he had to have them on display. 

The entrance to the Hub via the Plass was apparently blocked off by temporary barriers. At least according to Owen when he’d stomped in a few minutes before. Ianto wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. He hadn’t known there even _was_ an entrance via the Plass. 

9:04am

Homocidal urges. 

Mrs Miggins had been at the Tourist Office four minutes and Ianto was starting to worry again. Not about the state of the Tourist Office but about himself. Risk to the public. Dangerous alien. He knew all the reasons the Captain said he couldn’t let him go and ever since the incident with Tosh Ianto wasn’t the slightest bit inclined to argue. He’d never felt quite so much like a risk before though. Not like this. 

Four minutes with MrsMiggins and Ianto was fantasising that he knew how to control the fury of the energy trapped in his body. Just one little spark...

 

10am

Opening time. Time to face the hordes. 

10:30am

The hordes were clearly caught in traffic, but at least Mrs Miggins had gone.

11am

One customer down. Hordes apparently still on route. Nevertheless, Ianto was rather pleased with the way he’d managed to bullshit his way through that one tourist’s request for information. Pulling one of the brochures down from a shelf, he began to read. Best to be better prepared. 

12:10pm

Closed for lunch. 

Tosh had appeared dead on Twelve and said she was going on sandwich run for the rest of the team. Ianto was about to volunteer to go for her, then changed tack and said he’d go with her instead. He needed the air. Tosh looked exhausted. Pale with deep bags under her eyes. They hadn’t spoken in a couple of days and Ianto knew something serious was going on down in the world below, but when he asked the now familiar wall appeared in Tosh’ eyes. He wasn’t allowed to know. He left it at that and looped his arm through hers as they wandered through the unusually large lunchtime crowd in Mermaid Quay. 

13:30pm

The horde had arrived!

Oh no. His mistake. It was just a woman with four noisy, sticky fingered, pre-school aged children trying to find out bus routes, and an OAP looking to get out of the wind for ten minutes.

 

3pm

Coffee. 

He wasn’t the biggest fan of instant, but sometimes coffee was coffee. Trying slip into the Hub unobtrusively should be an impossibility, what with the claxon and bright flashing lights. And yet his entrance didn’t even make anyone blink. The atmosphere in the main Hub was stiflingly tense. Then a shout - a real bellow of frustrated, impotent rage - and something smashed inside the Captain’s office. Coming out of the kitchen, Ianto almost dropped his mug. 

Owen poked his head out of the autopsy pit. “Hartman?”

“Hartman.” Suzie a Tosh replied with sighs of long sufferance.

Who the hell was Hartman?

4:15pm

‘The South Wales Comprehensive Tourist Information Guide: 2004 Edition’ was oddly enthralling. Who knew there was a Knitted Doll Museum in Barry*?

5:21pm

Almost closing up time. 

The sounds of the opening; crowds, music and speeches had been trickling down from the Plass all afternoon. Ianto was tempted to go up and see what was going on for himself once he’d closed the office. It was certainly more appealing than the prospect of heading back downstairs. Not that he didn’t know exactly what was going on up the top end of the Plass today. Mrs Miggins had insisted that he memorise the itinerary for the entire weekend. 

Standing up straight from where he’d been leant with his hip against the counter, Ianto raised his arms above his head and stretched, cracking a yawn. All things considered, the day hadn’t been too bad. If he tried really hard, he could even forget that there was a top-secret underground base below his feet, or that he was tied to it with an invisible leash. There had been no tests for two days now, and for the same two days he hadn’t had to sit and wait to be fed. He had a reason to get up, to get dressed and actually go through the motions of a normal day. Like a normal person. Normal.

Not some kind of freak or monster. Just a normal guy. Who got up, got dressed, went to work, dealt with customers and a boss he could never hope to make happy, who waited for five thirty so he could knock off. 

Ianto smiled to himself. 

It was a pretence, a sham really, but it was the best he had, and a week ago he’d been beginning to see the rest of his life flowing out before him being nothing but a tiny room, puzzle books and brief glimpses of an outside world he’d never be allowed to touch. Unconsciously he rubbed at his left shoulder. He’d known last week, and still understood now why it had to be like that. That didn’t mean however, that he didn’t like this new arrangement more. He just had to make sure he didn’t do anything to make the Captain take this away from him. 

Time to start closing up. The float in the till would need counting and putting in the safe. He’d need to have a little tidy and sweep round. 

He was just in the process of deciding which to do first when the door opened.

Looking round, Ianto gave his new customer a polite but apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, we’re closing.”

The man, taller than Ianto and thick set like a bouncer didn’t reply, just stopped in the middle of the shop and looked around. 

Ianto blinked. He must be more tired than he thought; he couldn’t focus properly on the man’s face. 

Thinking perhaps to try a different tack, Ianto repeated what he’d said in Welsh.

Still no reply. 

OK. What to do now. Strange man in the shop. Not replying. If he wanted the money out of the till, Ianto was more than happy to hand it over. But something about the whole scenario didn’t scream robbery. He’d been in a robbery before, when he’d been closing up the coffee shop he’d worked in while at University. Robbers usually ran in waving some kind of weapon making demands. They didn’t wander in calmly and look around in silence while exuding an aura of menace. Or did they? Who the hell would rob a tourist office anyway? 

It was still hard to really get a handle on the man’s face, but now at least Ianto could make out an expression. A scornful, cocky expression. The man wandered over to the post card rack. There was no way now for Ianto to get out from behind the counter without going through him. Damn. 

Picking up a postcard, the man flicked it round in his fingers, turning his head to look at Ianto “So, Where is she?”

“Where is who?” Ianto shook his head. “There’s just me here.”

Perhaps not the wisest admission he’d ever made. The man’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t really think I’m going to buy that do you? Just hand her over and I’ll be on my way.”

“Honestly, I have no idea who you’re looking for. Perhaps if you gave me a name, or do you have a picture?”He was getting scared now, although he did his damnedest not to show it. What the hell was he supposed to do? 

Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto spotted something and as subtly as he could, sidled closer. Pride was one thing, very large intimidating men demanding something he couldn’t give were quite another. Suzie better not have been bluffing.

The man was still coming towards him. He was between him and the door. Maybe if he could just try and make a break for it? Hide in the crowd in the Plass maybe? 

Taking his chances, Ianto made to run for it. He got about four paces before the man caught him, grabbing the back of his jacket and slamming his fist into Ianto’s stomach. 

“Now that, wasn’t very clever.” He drawled as Ianto folded over, falling to one knee as the shock and pain of the blow radiated throughout his body. 

Shit, he’d forgotten how much being punched in the gut _hurt_. It had been years. Wheezing, Ianto looked up at his attacker in confusion and dismay, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know anything about your girl!”

“Don’t play games with me boy. Now tell me where the dirty Dreneka is and we’ll forget all this ever happened.” The man snarled as he hauled Ianto off the floor by the back of his collar, shoving him back against the counter, holding him there with a hand around his throat; brochures, leaflets and souvenir ashtrays scattered all over the floor. “We know she’s here somewhere. Just tell me. Make life easier on yourself.”

“I... don...”The pressure on his throat meant it was impossible to draw enough breath to answer. All he could do was shake his head in furious denial. His fingers scrabbled ineffectually at the man’s hand, he couldn’t get his legs into position where he could kick him. 

A click. Ianto’s eyes snapped from the man’s face to just over his shoulder.

“Or how about you put him down and I won’t blow your brains across the room.”

Twenty minutes ago, Ianto Jones would have sworn blind he could quite happily live the rest of his life never hearing that particular American accented voice ever again. But then that was twenty minutes ago. 

The hand on his throat gripped tighter, and the man turned his head. “I can snap his neck faster than you can pull that trigger.”

“Pattern intensity at sixty-eight percent. sixty-nine percent.” A voice in the background. Was that Tosh? “Seventy-percent! Jack...”

Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe. He kicked out uselessly, eyes finding the Captain’s imploringly and finding only impassiveness staring back.

“Well if you’re gonna snap it, I suggest you do it fast.” The Captain shrugged, taking a deliberate step back. 

“Seventy-two percent!”

The man scowled and glanced back at Ianto. For a fraction of a second he looked unsure.

A fraction of a second was all it took. The hand on Ianto’s throat loosened fractionally. Air rushed into his lungs and propelled by panic and anger, Ianto launched himself off the counter. Guided by instincts he hadn’t used since he was a kid, he clouted the man hard in the face.

~Tw~wT~

Well, to say the afternoon had taken an unexpected turn would be an understatement. 

Leaning back against Tosh’s work station, Suzie found herself watching the two people on the couch. Tosh and Ianto. Well actually, she was watching Ianto. For the last ten minutes _he’d_ been trying to reassure _Tosh_ that he was alright. It was strangely cute.

And mildly disturbing. When she’d instructed Tosh as to how she wanted the security system recalibrated, giving Ianto Jones a panic button hadn’t even crossed her mind. Everything she’d ordered had been about protecting _them_ ; the team and Torchwood. 

Shaking her head ruefully, she had to give the boy credit. It was quick thinking to use the entry button to get their attention. Of course when the alarm had gone off none of them had actually considered that Ianto might be in trouble. She’d been furious. And embarrassed. After all, putting that much trust in Ianto had been her idea. Tosh had look alarmed and sad, Owen unsurprised and Jack about ready to spit fire. Owen had started yelling about the Pattern intensity almost at the same moment they’d brought up the CCTV and Suzie wasn’t sure who’d moved faster, Tosh or Jack.

Nor was she sure who any of them had been more concerned for when they’d realised the predicament Ianto was in. After all, Ianto might have been the one in immediate obvious danger, but with the Pattern readings spiking, all of them were aware it might be his attacker who came off worse. They _all_ remembered the way Jack had been thrown across the vaults last time. 

In the end Ianto’s attacker had wound up on the losing side, but only because of that punch. Every time she pictured it in her head she felt like grinning. It was quite the sucker punch. Who knew the mouse had it in him?

Well, thanks to that blow, subduing their visitor hadn’t been half the problem they’d expected. Jack and Owen had hauled him off to the vaults, and given she could already hear Owen’s grousing, they had to be on their way back. 

Sure enough, they soon appeared. Jack striding over to stand in front of Ianto, hands on hips. “What happened?”

Ianto looked back up at Jack with wide eyes, retreating back into the couch. “I... ah... He just came in... Started.. started going on about some girl.”

Suzie couldn’t see Jack’s face, but she heard his huff of annoyance. “Word for word Ianto. What did he say to you?”

Much to Suzie’s surprise, Ianto did exactly that, the words leaving him without inflection, like they’d been memorised off a flash card. “So, Where is she? You don’t really think I’m going to buy that do you? Just hand her over and I’ll be on my way. Now that wasn’t very clever. Don’t play games with me boy. Now tell me where the dirty Dreneka is and we’ll forget all this ever happened. We know she’s here somewhere. Just tell me. Make life easier on yourself...”

“Back it up.” Jack jumped in, halting the flow. If he’d noticed the peculiarity of Ianto’s recitation he didn’t comment on it. “Say the last bit again.”

“Sir?”

Suzie coughed. Sir? Really? That was too much. 

“The last bit.” Jack repeated, as Suzie caught Owen’s eye and they shared a smirk behind Jack’s back. Oh yes they’d be discussing the Sir thing later. 

“We know she’s...” Ianto started, but once again Jack cut him off. 

“Before that.”

Ianto blinked at him, looked down, frowned then spoke again. “Now tell me where the dirty Dreneka is...”

“Dreneka.” Jack repeated, once more cutting Ianto off. Taking a few strides away, he rubbed his forehead, stopping and turning back. “You’re sure that’s what he said?”

“Yes sir.”

“Jack?” Suzie jumped in, curious. It wasn’t a word she knew, but it was clearly one Jack knew. “What does that mean?”

“I’m guessing nothing nice given the context.” Owen threw in. “Unless it’s culturally acceptable where he comes from to call someone a dirty beloved.”

“You’d be amazed where that’s culturally acceptable,” Jack muttered offhandedly and then sighed. “But you’re right. That isn’t a nice word. The best translation I know of is whore. But it’s worse than that. A Dreneka is a receptacle. A living toy. An owned, used... _thing_. Good for one purpose. A tool to be used.” Jack shrugged as Tosh, Suzie and even Owen gave him disgusted looks.

“Charming.” Owen replied curling his lip.

“In what language?” Tosh asked with concern. 

“Not a human one.” Jack replied quickly.

“So we have a thug using an alien word.” Suzie summarised. 

“We have an alien thug using an alien word.” Owen clarified, and when Suzie stared at him in confusion, he crossed to the nearest terminal and pulled up the CCTV of the vaults. There, in the cell was the man from the Tourist Office. Well something in the same suit at least. But it wasn’t a human in that suit. For a start he appeared to be white - not human skin tone white, but bright white – no ears, a highly pronounced brow and deep set black eyes. “Jack took a device off him when we got him down there. Some kind of perception filter...”

Jack shook his head. Pulling something from his pocket, he threw it to Suzie who caught it deftly. “Nothing so sophisticated. I’d need you to confirm it for me, but my guess it’s a light refractor. Using a low powered force-field to interrupt the way light bounces off an object, or in this case a person, so what we see appears distorted.”

“Like looking through a prism or in one of those funny mirrors at a fair ground?” Ianto spoke up, ducking his head and curling down in his seat again when everyone turned to look at him. 

Jack narrowed his eyes, frowned and spoke slowly. “Yeah. Exactly. When the eye won’t focus properly on the image, the human brain tends to fill in the blanks, so it works pretty well as a disguise.”

Distracted by the object Jack had thrown her, Suzie barely registered the exchange. Turning the small device over and over in her hands she examined it. It wasn’t very big, not much larger than the palm of her hand. It was heavy, rounded and smooth. Tear shaped. Sliding her fingers round it, she found a seam around the edge. It barely took a tiny amount of pressure with her finger nail and the thing popped open, like taking the back off a mobile phone. 

Shell lifted, she looked inside. 

_“Intel, Hotpoint, Philips, Sony, all the parts are branded!” Suzie exclaimed. Something caught her eye and she reached out. “Hold on, what is that under there?”_

_“Suzie don’t touch it!”_

_As her fingers made contact with the strangely organic amalgam of contemporary electrical components, something happened that Suzie did not expect. It moved._

There, staring back at her from inside the device, was the same thing she’d spotted in spidery thing in the lower tunnels.

A shining blue crystal, pulsing gently.


	6. Chapter 6

**Cardiff, November 2004  
One day to Arrival**

At the table in the interrogation room, the creature laughed. 

“You think I’m afraid of you? Maybe once I might have been, when you lot had some balls. Everyone knows Torchwood’s gone soft. Now you’re nothing. A joke so old we don’t even bother laughing anymore. I ain’t tellin you shit, Torchwood.”

Hands braced on the table, breath coming in heavy pants, his face right up close to the creature’s, Jack snarled. His mind raged. His ego and pride hissed at the wounds they’d been delivered. His temper strained at its already short and fragile leash. Hours. They’d been at this for hours. 

“You think we’ve gone soft?” Jack growled. The creature just snorted, rolling his large black eyes. Jack’s temper snapped. Quicker than the creature could react to, Jack reared back, grabbed the pen he’d left on the table and slammed it through the back of one of the creature’s hand, pinning it to the table. The creature shouted out in pain, quickly cutting himself off and ending with a hiss. Jack raised a questioning eyebrow. “How about now? Why did you attack our office?”

Defiant eyes glared back at Jack. Jack grinned. It was the kind of grin surfers saw just before they started to panic. It was the kind of grin that usually had a fin on top. Using just his thumb, he pushed at the pen.

~Tw~wT~

Tosh paused and closed her eyes at the howl of pain that echoed up from the interrogation room, but a hushed and stifled whimper much closer to hand made her open them again. Beside her on a spare office chair he’d wheeled over, Ianto sat frozen, mug still held to his lips. Slowly he lowered it, and turned to look at her. 

“What was that?” he asked quietly, although Tosh was pretty sure he already knew the answer. 

“Try not to think about it.” Tosh replied with a small, what she hoped was reassuring smile, reaching out and patting his knee. 

Perhaps she should have done what Jack said and insisted he return to his room. But he’d seemed so reluctant to take himself down there, that she hadn’t had the heart to banish him to his dark cellar. Hell, he’d voluntarily remained in the same room as Jack when he had ample opportunity to escape; that alone was enough to tell Tosh that Ianto wasn’t keen on being on his own right now. 

Shaking his head, Ianto’s eyes tightened in disbelief. “How can you just...”

 _“Oh what rogues of men necessity makes.”_ Owen muttered under his breath from he where he sat sprawled in at his own terminal, his eyes never leaving the screen he was focussed on. 

“But...” Ianto tried again, only Owen cut him off. 

“Look Glow boy, we need answers, Jack gave pasty face plenty of opportunity to give them without it coming to this. It’s not our fault he didn’t bite, Alright?” Standing up abruptly, Owen grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and began to make for the door. 

“Where are you going?” Tosh asked urgently, turning in her chair to track his progress. 

“To drive the Queen’s route for tomorrow.” Owen snapped back. “It’s not like there’s anything doing here.”

Tosh could only watch open mouthed as Owen stormed out, unsure whether the words that had died on her lips had been reassuring or admonishing.

~Tw~wT~

Stood behind Tosh’s shoulder, Suzie looked away from the monitor she’d been studying when she heard Jack stamp his way back upstairs from the interrogation room. He looked dishevelled, his features were sat in hard lines and there was something splattered on his shirt that although it wasn’t red, she assumed was more than likely blood. 

He stopped just outside the entrance to the autopsy pit, sharp eyes casting around the Hub and narrowing when they hit Tosh and Suzie. 

“Where is he?”

“If you mean Owen then he’s gone to do a reccy drive. If you mean Ianto, he finally decided that a trip through dark tunnels was less disturbing than the noises coming from where you were and has gone back to his room.” Suzie explained calmly, then her eyebrow lifted in amusement. “I don’t think you’ve made much headway convincing him you’re not a psychopath by the way.”

Jack just rolled his eyes in return, walking over to them. “Tell me you’ve made more progress than I have.”

“Actually we have.” Suzie replied somewhat proudly and a little hopefully. Not hopefully with regard to their own progress, but for Jack. Jack was a master of the veneer; of keeping his true feelings hidden and putting on the expected face. But to the experienced eye there were sometimes cracks, and through those cracks the truth shone through. Jack was frustrated, tired, and bordering on frantic. He was one of life’s doers – someone for whom patience did not come naturally but had to be learnt and employed with effort – and right now there was very little he could actually _do._ “We think we might have a way to track our little spiders.”

Tosh took up the thread. “If Suzie’s right and the power source from the refraction device is the same type as what’s powering the spiders, then I should be able to configure the internal scanners to pick up on the pulse frequency the crystal emits.”

“Should being the operative word.” Suzie admitted with a sigh. “Everything’s a mess down there, so no guarantee the computer can superimpose what it’s reading accurately onto a diagram of the tunnels.”

“But it’s a start.” Jack acknowledged questioningly, raising his eyebrows and looking between the two. “Right?”

“It’s a start.” Suzie confirmed. Looking Jack up and down, she cocked her head to one side. “So our new friend downstairs wasn’t forthcoming?”

Jack shook his head and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “All I could get out of him is that he’s working for someone else. Oh and that he didn’t actually know the Tourist Office was our front door.”

“You believe him?” Tosh queried in surprise. 

“I believe him. He might not be scared of Torchwood, but he’s definitely terrified of whoever it is he works for. I get the distinct impression that no matter how low their opinion of us, letting us know something’s going on wasn’t part of the plan.”

~Tw~wT~

“You lied.”

Jack kept his face impassive at Suzie’s words, feigning disinterest with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving the file on his desk. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his second leaning against the doorway of his office, arms folded over her chest, her own expression carefully guarded although knowing Suzie like he did, he suspect there was a hint of curiosity in her dark eyes. 

Not animosity or annoyance, but curiosity. That was one of the things he liked best about Suzie. Granted there were a lot of things he liked ‘best’ about Suzie, but this ranked highly. She never took anything personally. She might not like it when he held things back from the team, she might challenge him on his decisions if she felt he was wrong, but she never took any of it as some kind of personal attack on her. She understood, often far better than the others did, that sometimes things were need to know, and sometimes he made decisions based on facts she wasn’t in possession of. 

That didn’t mean however, as this moment clearly showed, that she didn’t _want_ to know what it was he knew but they didn’t. 

“About what?”

“What the Calavite told you.” Suzie clarified. Again Jack kept his focus down on his paperwork, but inside he tipped his hat to her. She wasn’t wrong. She wasn’t wrong about the creature’s species either, although he hadn’t told the team he knew. Undoubtedly they looked it up on the database. Jack had known all along, but it was easier sometimes to substitute ‘creature’ in his mind. Easier to get the job done. 

After a long silence, Suzie finally fished again. “I was watching most of that interview. He told you something and it surprised you. What was it?”

Well clearly Suzie wasn’t going to leave it alone, and frankly it didn’t really matter if she knew or not. He hadn’t said anything, not because he didn’t want the team to know, but because he hadn’t thought it was important. 

At least Suzie hadn’t come to have a ‘talk’ with him about his methods. But then why would she? That was something else Suzie understood. Necessity. From an outside perspective an Alien had walked through their front door and had attacked and threatened one of their people. It didn’t matter that Ianto wasn’t really one of their people, or that it turned out the Calavite had only accidentally decided to piss on their doorstep – metaphorically speaking. They’d needed answers. He’d needed answers. Sitting back in his chair, Jack shook his head dismissively. “He lied.”

“Why would that surprise you?” Suzie replied with a scoff, moving forward and sitting on the edge of Jack’s desk. 

“Because it was such an obvious lie.” Jack shrugged. “He told me he worked for Mr Salls.”

Suzie cast Jack a look clearly showed that she had no idea why that was significant. “Who?”

“Mr Salls… he’s… an urban myth. It’s not important. He was just trying to throw me off. It didn’t work.” Jack shrugged again, picking up his pen and twirling it around in his fingers before looking down back down at his work.“Something else you needed Suzie?”

He didn’t look back up, he didn’t need to. He could see the pursed lips and crinkled brow clearly in his mind’s eye. He heard the huff, despite Suzie’s best efforts to keep it quiet, and could practically feel the frustration oozing from her as he slipped off the desk and back out into the main Hub. 

Perhaps he’d been a touch too dismissive, but really there was no point rehashing it. Having Suzie get sidetracked by Mr Salls was beyond a waste of time. Time they were sorely short of. Mr Salls was a myth; pure and simple. A story told to keep youngsters inline. One of those tall-tales that he’d caught on the edge of hearing in certain bars in certain parts of Cardiff. 

Nothing to worry about. It was an insult to his intelligence that the idiot thug who’d attacked Ianto had tried to put the frighteners on him by mentioning his name. Like Jack would be intimidated by _that._ He might as well have tried to claim he worked for the bogie-man. 

With a last huff, Jack put it out of his mind. He had more important things to concentrate on. The Queen’s visit, the spidery things in the basement, the attack on the tourist office. There was a connection. There had to be. The timings were just too close to be anything else. 

The spidery-things and the Calavite were definitely connected; the crystals proved that. But why? Why their power? To distract them? To put them out of action? What for? To get to the Queen? Yes Torchwood were involved with her security arrangements but only in a peripheral way. And what about this girl the Calavite had been looking for?

There was something bigger, something he was missing. Not the corner of a puzzle, he had all of those pieces, what he was missing was a whole lot of pieces in the middle.

~Tw~wT~

Standing at the edge of the crowd, Ianto took a minute to enjoy the music being performed by the live band on the temporary stage that had been erected in the plass. It wasn’t really his kind of music, but it was live and it was open air and it was a damned good excuse to dawdle on the surface rather than return to the tourist office and the Hub. 

The Tesco bag hung heavy between his fingers, filled with sandwiches, soft drinks and doughnuts. Why had he offered to go and get the team’s lunch again? Oh that’s right, he’d wanted to get out of the Tourist Office. He wasn’t as enamoured with it as he had been yesterday. He wasn’t scared exactly; he’d been at Torchwood long enough, and had seen enough of the team’s reactions to know that Aliens didn’t come knocking on the front door on a regular basis. It was just that with everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours he was feeling a little jittery. Restless. On edge. He constantly felt like he needed to be looking over his shoulder. 

His throat still hurt where his shirt collar rubbed at hand shaped bruises, and where he’d been punched in the gut ached almost constantly. He glanced down at his other hand, and the other bag he was carrying with its single purchase in its regular uninteresting box. A radio. He needed the noise in the Tourist Office and in his room. He wasn’t sure he’d get reception in his room but he had to try. When it was quiet he kept hearing screams. 

He shuddered. Torture. He hadn’t considered torture before. Not proper torture, like they did in films; where the bad guys locked the good guy in a room and beat the crap out of him to make him talk, and when that failed they got all inventive with the crap they had lying around. Or they called in the creepy bald guy (he was always bald) with the beautifully kept ‘tool kit’ wrapped in well oiled leather or pristine velvet. Then depending on the film’s rating it would either fade to black or get gruesomely graphic. 

No he’d never considered torture. Hadn’t put the Captain and Torture in the same place in his head. And now that he had. Now that he had undeniable truth that the two things did indeed go together? Well it didn’t make a comfortable realisation. 

Nor did his own confused thinking when he thought about who exactly it was he’d heard being tortured. When Jack had burst in and put his gun to the alien’s head, Ianto had been all for that trigger being pulled. Oh yes. Ianto had been all for Jack killing it before it killed him. Only it hadn’t been an it at the time. At the time it had seemed to be human, if a slightly out of focus one. So surely it should be a relief that he, the man throttling him to death over the tourist office counter, had turned out to be an _it._

But it wasn’t. All the lines, like the man’s face, were suddenly very blurred. Bad guys used torture, good guys took the moral high ground. Alright so he wasn’t _that_ naive. Nevertheless, he felt like his perception had been skewed. Fairground mirrors again. 

The crowd bustled around him. Tourists, visitors, actors dressed up as characters from Welsh myth and history, kids with painted faces, some poor sod dressed as a leek. Ianto Jones stood alone in the middle of maelstrom lost in thought, feeling one step outside himself and set apart from everything around him. 

Which was probably why he noticed before anyone else. Why he felt the static like charge in the air before the PA system whined and sparked. Before every bulb in the light towers around the edge of the plass blew. Before the shouting and screaming and running began. 

And even as it began he saw them through the crowd. Blurred faces and smart suits. 

Dropping his bags, he ran. 

Ran as fast as his suit trousers and smart shoes would let him. Feet pounding on the paving stones as he sprinted down the incline of the plass, fingers dragging against the wall of the low arch as he hit the boardwalk and turned, slipping on damp boards, hand already in his pocket for his key. 

He slammed into the door with both hands, the key in one stinging painfully in his grip. Constantly looking over his shoulder he fumbled, trying to get the key in the lock. With a loud exhalation of relief, he slid it home, turned and pushed. 

Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing. 

With a shout of frustration he hammered on the door. Nothing. 

Frantic, he looked around. Intercom. He hit the button. Hit it and hit it and hit it.

~Tw~wT~

Red light bathed the Hub, flickered with orange and sparks of white and murky with smoke. 

Alarms screamed. 

“FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEMS ACTIVATED” 

Flames licked. 

Eyes watering, Jack staggered out of his office pulling his T-shirt up over his nose and mouth. 

“FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEMS ACTIVATED” 

A pitiful shower of powdery foam rained from above. Skirting around the flames and sparks coming from Owen’s terminal, he squinted through the smoke and froth. A crumpled form lay a few feet in front of him. Scrambling closer, he knelt. “Tosh?”

“FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEMS ACTIVATED” 

He shook her. She moved. Relief shot through him. Her head turned, groggy confused eyes looked up at him. “wha... what happened?”

Jack shook his head, and slipping a hand under her shoulder, helped her stand, keep one hand around her waist as she swayed unsteadily. The flames were dying even if the electrics were still randomly sparking off. A clatter of heals on concrete, Suzie appeared. Dishevelled but none the worse for wear. She had a soot smear on her cheek. She handed him something. A face mask. Even as he pulled it on and yanked his T-shirt back down Suzie helped Tosh into hers. 

“We need to get out of here!” Suzie exclaimed over the din of alarms and crackling shorts. Something blew on the other side of the central Hub, making them all flinch. 

“FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEMS ACTIVATED” 

“Lock down.” Tosh moaned. “We’re in Lockdown. We can’t... we can’t...”

“Shhh...” Jack attempted to calm her. Turning her to face him and finally seeing the large bruise on her forehead. Even if she didn’t have concussion between a bang to the head and smoke inhalation she wasn’t in a good way. “It’s ok. Calm down. I’ll get us out. I promise. Alright?”

“FIRE SUPPRESSION SYSTEMS ACTIVATED” 

Jack looked up to get Suzie’s attention, but she was already turned away, hammering furiously at Tosh’s keyboard. “This shouldn’t happen! The fire fail-safes should have kicked in! We shouldn’t still be in lockdown!”

“The tunnels!” Jack yelled, grabbing Suzie by the shoulder and pulling her away from the terminal and herding the two women down the steps. 

Down. 

Down to safety. 

Away from the smoke and the foam and the sparks and flames.

~Tw~wT~

There were ambulances on the Plass. Blue flashing lights and hi-viz Jackets. Ramming the Land Rover up over the curb, Owen slammed on the breaks and leapt out. 

“’ere mate, you can’t leave that there...” A hi-viz yelled at him. 

“Torchwood.” Owen growled back, not even bothering to look at the man. If he was playing crowd control then he was hardly going to have any answers. The man grabbed his arm; Owen shook him off and kept walking. 

There were a lot of people milling about. Police, ambulance, fire crews and members of the public all mixed in. Smoke curled up the side of the water-tower. 

Owen’s step faltered and for a moment he could only stare. _“Shit.”_

He tapped his earpiece. “Jack? Suzie? Tosh?”

Nothing. Static itched back at him. _“Shit.”_

The world seemed to be moving very slowly. His eyes scanned over the milling crowds, the hunkered figures being treated by the paramedics, the clusters of officials and police, the yellow and black suits of the fire brigade. No RAF coat. No dark curls. No petite Japanese woman. Bile rose in Owen’s throat. 

“If any of you buggers can hear me, now would be a great time to stop pissing about and answer!”

Nothing. He pulled the earpiece free and stared down at it, like it would hold the answers he craved. 

What the hell had happened?

Someone brushed past him, official looking. Fireman. Senior. “Oi!”

The man turned and Owen realised he had hold of the man’s sleeve. He didn’t remember reaching out. “What’s going on here?”

The man raised an eyebrow then seemed to come to conclusion that if Owen was inside the cordon, he should be inside the cordon. A lot of people did that. Too busy to think or look deeper. Owen had seen Jack use that his advantage more times than he liked to think about. “Some kind of power surge. Looked more impressive than it actually was. Lots of sparking and bulbs blowing that kind of thing.”

If it was so unimpressive, why weren’t the others answering? The fireman was still talking, but Owen had tuned out, his mind tumbling with all the possible scenarios and possibilities, half on the verge of panic. 

No he needed to calm down and think rationally. Just because there was smoke coming up from the Hub and the others weren’t answering it didn’t mean they’d all burnt alive in some cataclysmic explosion. 

“Lovely imagery there Owen, nice one. Way to calm yourself down.” He muttered to himself angrily. “Why not go the whole hog and imagine mangled corpses and scattered entrails while you’re at it?”

Closing his eyes, he shook his head. So, facts. The fireman had disappeared. Probably got bored not being listened to. Something had happened in the Hub. Something that caused smoke. The coms were down. Which fitted into the problem in the Hub scenario, since their coms were run from the Hub. Right, what else? There’d been a power surge on the Plass. Connected? Probably. What had that fireman been muttering about? Something to do with the Millennium centre? Wasn’t half of that built on top of the Hub? When they’d been pile-driving the foundations they’d almost gone round the bend with the noise. 

But all that was for later. What mattered now was finding the others, not finding out what caused the power surge. The others. In the Hub. He had to think. Remember. Connect the dots.

“I’m a doctor not a bloody detective!”

And now he was apparently quoting Star Trek. Oh dear.

So. Hub. Fire? Explosion? Why hadn’t the others come to the surface. Too hurt? If that was the case he would need to get into the Hub to find them. How to get into the Hub? Not the lift. Common sense, don’t use a lift in a fire. So...

“Tourist office!” He shouted to himself, taking off at a run, barrelling past confused bystanders and emergency personnel; a blur of hi-viz and angry shouts. 

The boardwalk was slippery underfoot and when he hit it, he almost came off his feet. Somehow he managed to stay upright and as he looked up he saw something he wasn’t sure was a blessing or a curse. 

“Ianto!”

“Owen!” The younger man shouted back, spinning away from the tourist office door and starting in Owen’s direction, his face a picture of fear and panic. “They’re up there! Those men! The alien men! Like last night! They’re on the plass and I can’t get in and I can’t get anyone to answer!”

Gripping Ianto by the upper arms, Owen resisted the urge to shake him. “What?” Ianto opened his mouth but Owen cut him off. “Look, never mind, we need to get in there. Have you got your key?”

“It doesn’t work!” Ianto shouted back in exasperation. “Owen... the aliens...”

“Are the least of our problems right now.” Owen snapped, grabbing the key out of Ianto’s hand and trying it in the lock. “The fucking Hub’s on fire!”

Ianto gaped for a second, his mouth falling open. “On f... Tosh! Tosh is in there... and the others...”

“Oh don’t fucking pass out on me! Breathe you idiot!”

“I am breathing!” Ianto hissed. “and I’ve already tried the key, it doesn’t work! Would I be standing out here if I could bloody well get in!?”

With a snarl, Owen yanked the key from the lock and kicked the door for good measure. “We need to get in there.”

“How?” Ianto asked, backing away from Owen’s anger but not moving too far. “The door won’t open.”

“Yeah I got that thank you very much.” Owen jibed.

Ianto frowned. “What about another way in?”

Owen looked up for a moment but then shook his head. “Not in lock down.” Balling his fist he raised it to his head then let out another angry sound, lashing out and smacking the door. “Fuck! Fucking Harkness, Fucking Torchwood! Fucking ballsing fucking stupid... arrgh! This shouldn’t happen!” 

Needing to lash out at something, someone, filled with so much anger and fear he felt like he was going to explode, Owen grabbed Ianto by the lapels of his suit jacket and this time he did shake him. “This shouldn’t Happen! Fires cancel lock-downs! That’s how it’s supposed to work! We’ve done the fucking drills!” His anger, as quick as it was to come, faded just as rapidly and he pushed Ianto away. 

“We can’t get in...” Turning he slumped back against the wall of the office. “and they can’t get out.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

Owen’s head jerked up. 

That smug, arrogant, self important, American... _bastard._


	7. Chapter 7

**Cardiff, November 2004  
Arrival Day**

Night drifted, rolling one day to another. The first chimes of November midnight, cold and frosting. 

Stragglers chatted, winding their slightly drunk way across the Plass, hands tight in pockets, not always their own; weaving around the barriers and empty stages and waving merrily at the few yellow jacketed stewards. Festivities that had taken so long to plan were not put off by something as trifling as a power surge it would seem. The events had rolled on as planned, if only a little delayed.

In the shadows beside one of the fire-exits of the Millennium Centre, a deeper shadow lurked, waiting. He hated waiting, which was ironic considering he’d spent most of his unnaturally long life doing just that. And yet, in all that time he had not learned patience. Not true serene patience. The best he’d ever managed was a restless, agitated patience born of necessity. The kind he was exhibiting now, the kind where his irritation seemed to grow with each passing minute. 

He knew, he understood and he accepted the reasons why he had to wait. That didn’t mean he liked it. In the shadows beside one of the fire-exits of the Millennium centre Jack Harkness lurked and waited, his mind churning over the last few hours.

~Tw~wT~

8 Hours earlier. 

They’d settled eventually on Starbucks. There was a logic to their decision. A large group of people in a small coffee shop stood out. Yes Starbucks saw traffic but if there happened to be a group of five people tucked away on the couches in the corner for a few hours no-one would really pay them much mind other than a brief glance and a quiet huff because they’d got the sofas first. Aside from that it was busy enough that no-one would pay attention to what they were talking about, it was open late on weekends so they’d be set until at least eleven if need be, had free wi-fi, served food, the coffee was tolerable if expensive and it was warm. 

They’d needed a place to regroup, to sort themselves out and work out what to do next. Jack didn’t bother to look up from his wrist strap as Ianto returned to the table with a tray of coffees, hearing but not paying attention to the murmurs of thanks his team raised as the large mugs were passed around. He caught sight of one being placed in front him out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t let it distract him. He was trying to gain remote access to the Hub, but so far wasn’t having much luck. Hopefully Tosh would do better. 

Thinking of the computer genius, Jack finally raised his gaze, taking in the group around him. Tosh opposite him with the spare laptop they kept in the Land Rover sitting on the low table in front of her. Suzie sat on the couch on one side of her, Ianto on the arm of the couch on the other. Owen had pulled up an armchair and was only slowly pulling himself out of his sprawl to reach forward for his coffee. 

_“How did you get out?”_

_“Jack took us through the tunnels. We managed to kick out a rusty grill on a storm drain and made it out that way.”_

_“You mean to tell me that for all of Torchwood’s high security, you got out because of a rusty drain cover?”_

Half an hour later and that little overheard conversation still made a sea of emotions slop uneasily in Jack’s stomach. He’d taken them down to the storm drain because it would give them fresh air, would give them a better chance against the smoke and fumes. He hadn’t expected to actually be able to get out. But once Suzie had spotted just how worn and rusted the bars of that grill had been and started kicking it, even in heels, he could hardly just sit there and watch. The grill had given way with sickening ease with two of them hammering at it. 

The Calavite was right. They were joke. Four lost souls running around like a bunch of clueless girl-guides, a prisoner who ran their cover for them, a clapped out Land Rover and a dilapidated top secret underground base. A base which had practically imploded on itself due to a power surge, then during the resulting fire it had locked them in. Not that it mattered because they’d been able to get out simply by kicking something hard enough. No wonder the alien underground was laughing at them, that Yvonne Hartman and her loyal followers laughed at them. 

He could feel it, everything he’d worked so hard for, crumbling around his ears. All his hopes. All his dreams. All his ambition. 

“I’m in!”

Blinking Jack looked up and shook off his claustrophobic defeatism. He was just tired. That was all. All was not lost. He couldn’t help himself, he caught Toshiko’s eye and grinned. 

Tosh smiled back, her cheeks pinking slightly as she absorbed the unspoken praise in Jack’s gaze. Then her eyes flicked back to the screen and within moments the smile dropped. 

“Main power is back online, but a number of systems are down. I’m going to try and access internal sensors.” Her fingers flew over the keys, her back rigid as she focussed. “The Hub is still locked down. Internal sensors report high levels of a number of toxic chemicals in the air.”

“From whatever caught fire. Lots of plastics and shit down there that would kick off nasty stuff when burnt.” Owen sighed and the others nodded in agreement. “Any idea how long until it’s safe to go back?”

Tosh shook her head. “Ventilation and air purification is offline. If the Plass wasn’t so busy I’d suggest opening up the lift slab, but...”

“I’d rather not unleash a cloud of poisonous gas onto Cardiff if we can help it.” Jack drawled, running his hand through his hair. “Any idea what caused all this?”

“Not right now, but should only take a minute to get all the information from the internal sensors and the monitors I put on the power grid from the servers.” Tosh continued to tap at the keyboard as she spoke. “I started saving data to the server as a primary after the surges started blowing up the CPU’s.”

“My genius Toshiko.” Jack laughed, his tone tinged more with relief than amusement. A relief that turned tense as that ‘only a minute’ seemed to stretch out. In his peripheral vision Jack could see they were all leant in expectantly, waiting, anxious for what Tosh would say. He didn’t envy her that scrutiny. 

“And got it... let me just... okay... according to this The Hub went into secure reset due to a power failure at fifteen oh nine hours and twelve seconds. Nineteen seconds later, the sensors recorded a massive incoming power surge which overloaded the power grid.” Tosh rattled off, her hands hovering over the keys and occasionally tapping, her eyes narrowed at the screen. 

“I arrived on the Plass around twenty past, so that makes sense.” Owen agreed. Frowning he looked over at Ianto. “Hang on, didn’t you say you saw fuzzy faces on the Plass before it went to hell?”

Jack’s gaze snapped to Ianto and he scowled, his voice low and dangerous. “And exactly when were you planning on sharing this with the rest of us?”

“Well I was going to... tried to... then Owen said the Hub was on fire and we couldn’t get in and then there wasn’t really...” Ianto stumbled desperately looking like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Suzie rolled her eyes, but Tosh reached out and put her hand reassuringly on his knee while at the same time pinning Jack with a glare. “It’s ok. Just tell us what you saw.”

Sitting back, Jack raised his eyebrow at Tosh, unimpressed. He would have to think about how close those two were getting. But not now. Now he had to focus on the threat at hand. 

“I uh... I was watching one of the outside stages, then there was this feeling.” Ianto began then trailed off with a frown. “It was probably nothing.”

“Let us decide if it’s nothing.” Jack snapped impatiently. “A feeling.”

“Like static. Like lots of static... I can’t really explain it.” Ianto tried, glancing around helplessly and clearly at a loss. 

“Could have been the power drain. That amount of energy being siphoned off in one go would create a huge electromagnetic field. Would make sense if it reacted with The Pattern.” Suzie theorised offhandedly, Tosh and Owen nodding in agreement. 

“You had this feeling before?” Jack asked bruskly. 

Ianto shook his head, and on seeing that Tosh spoke up. “That’s not surprising. This was the largest power drain yet, by a long way.”

“Alright so you felt the power drain.” Jack sighed, sitting back. He still wasn’t completely happy with the answers he was getting, but then nothing was going to sit well with him until they’d unravelled this whole thing, sorted it and got the Queen in and out of Cardiff safely. “What happened next?”

“Well, it made me look up and... well I could have just imagined it but I thought just for a moment...”Ianto stumbled once again, and seeing the raised eyebrows and increasing looks of frustration and impatience around him, bit the bullet. “I thought, just for a moment that the Millennium Centre roof turned blue. I know it’s stupid.”

“No its not.” Tosh waved him off, already half engrossed in something she had seen on her screen. “Keep talking.”

“Tosh what...” Jack tried to ask but was immediately cut off.

“Shh. Let Ianto talk I’ll tell you in a minute.” Tosh admonished. “Go on Ianto.”

“Umm.. well... I looked around to see if anyone else had seen but then things started exploding and that’s when I saw the fuzzy faces.”

“How many?” Suzie asked, peering over Tosh’s shoulder at the laptop screen. 

“I don’t know...” Ianto seemed nonplussed for a moment. “Five or six? That’s when I ran back to the tourist office but I couldn’t get in.”

“Tosh?” Jack asked curiously. He’d lost interest in what Ianto was saying as he’d watched the girl’s, clearly making some kind of progress on the laptop. 

“Give us a second Jack.” Suzie held him at bay, then pointed to something on the screen which made Tosh nod. 

“I’m a patient man, but I’m a little stretched ladies. Give me something here.” Jack huffed.

Finally Tosh looked up. “While we were talking, more of the data I’d been recording to the server downloaded. You remember Suzie and I were working on a program to detect the spiders? Well I just inputted the data along with what Ianto told us and with the original sensor readings and the fire investigators report from the millennium centre.” 

Turning the laptop around, Jack saw the screen was filled with a 3D diagram streaked with coloured lines and bright blue blobs, some small some large. Most of the diagram itself was recognisable as the Hub, but one section didn’t look familiar. It took him a moment to realise what it was. It was the basement levels of the Millennium Centre. 

“The lines show energy flow around the Hub. Those blue dots are the energy pulse signatures of the spiders.” Tosh explained. 

“Of course since we used the light refracting device we took off the calavite to tell the program what to look for, we also picked up the devices themselves.” Suzie broke in. “We weren’t looking at the data from the Plass at the time, we were searching inside the Hub. But you can see them there. Five small devices on the Plass at exactly the time Ianto described.”

“Not only that, look there.”Tosh pointed to a section of screen and Jack followed her finger. 

It was clearly the closest point between the basement levels of the Millennium Centre and the Hub, and in that spot, two large blue dots. 

“The power was being taken from the Hub into the millennium centre.” Jack surmised out loud. “Why?”

“That we can’t tell you.” Suzie replied seriously, her eyes slightly agleam at what they’d found out in the way only an engineer could understand. “But what we can tell you is how. Those spiders weren’t eating or collecting power. They were re-routing it. See all the power flow lines. They’re all going towards that point. If I had to guess our power problems haven’t been because someone’s stealing our power, they’re just the reason we noticed. Those outages were caused when the spiders tried to re-route something and our dodgy electrics caused a short.”

“So what happened earlier?” Owen, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. “What? Our wiring finally couldn’t hack it and went bang?”

“No.” Tosh shook her head. “No, I think it was a problem on the other end. They took the power they wanted, but something didn’t work and it all came rushing back. The drain itself took about forty to fifty seconds, but the return surge hit in less than a second.”

“A bit like stretching a rubber band then letting it go.” Ianto murmured, getting a pleased and approving nod from Tosh. 

Jack wasn’t listening. Standing up he grabbed his coat. They had a source now. Somewhere to look. Whoever or whatever was taking their power was based in the Millennium centre and he was going to put a stop to whatever it was they were up to. Right now. 

“Jack?” Suzie’s voice stopped him. 

“We know what we’re looking for now. Tosh stay here and see if you can get into the CCTV inside and outside the Millennium centre. Keep an eye on the Hub as well and let me know if there are any more power drains. Something that needs that much power isn’t something we want to happen, so we’re going to put a stop to it right now. Suzie you’re with me, Owen, take Ianto to the Land Rover and lock him in. He knows too much about this, and I don’t want him anywhere near this operation. When you’re done come find Suzie and I.”

“Now hang on!”

“Jack you can’t be serious!”

“Jack!”

Three voices of opposition. Sighing, Jack levelled them all with a glare. 

“Jack you can’t just lock Ianto in the Land Rover. It’s freezing out there!” Tosh protested despite the look she got for it. 

“It’s alright.” Ianto muttered quietly, standing up. “He’s worried if I’m left alone with you, I’ll do something to sabotage your mission. It’ll only be a couple of hours, I’ve got my coat.” 

Jack pursed his lips. He did not like the way Ianto’s capitulation and his team’s clear upset was making him feel. No, he would not be emotionally blackmailed on this. In the last week Ianto Jones had been given a great deal more freedom than he’d previously had, and in that self same week everything had gone to hell. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in coincidences – in fact they happened all the time – but he didn’t trust coincidences. Never had. Never would. 

Nobody moved. Tosh continued to glare. Owen looked anywhere but at him. 

Suzie huffed. “Jack... wait. We can’t do this now anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Jack almost barked.

“Do you want One to find out about this? Or how about the Queen’s office? Mi5?” Suzie countered evenly. “If we go rushing in there now all guns blazing, every security organisation in the country will know what’s happened. Right now as far as the rest of the world is concerned everything is ticking over smoothly apart from an electrical fault that had nothing to do with us what so ever. Wouldn’t it be better if we could keep it that way?”

Jack took a breath. What Suzie said made sense. Sometimes he hated it when she made sense. Usually it was because she made sense when he didn’t. Drawing another deeper breath, he ran his hand over his face. “Tosh, I still want those cameras, and I want to know what’s happening in the Hub. The moment it looks like something is going down we’re moving in. Otherwise, we’ll sit tight until things close down for the night. But no later. I want this sorted. _Tonight._ ”

~Tw~wT~

Midnight.

Tonight had come. The hours had crawled slowly by, and as soon as the evening’s show had finished and the crowds began to disperse they got into position. Starbucks had chucked them out at eleven, so they’d been forced to retreat to the Land Rover anyway. That’s where Tosh and Ianto still were. Necessity had made their previous clash of wills rather moot. Short of locking Ianto in the boot or cuffing him to one of the seats there wasn’t anything else Jack could have done to negate the risk of sabotage. He only hoped Tosh’s faith didn’t prove misguided. There were some occasions when Jack Harkness practically relished being wrong and this would certainly be one of them. 

November chill crept through his coat. There were cars in the side-street he was lurking in; their windscreens were already frosting up. 

“Tosh report.” He ordered with quiet firmness, tapping his ear piece. 

“Most of the front is closed up now. There’s still a few stage hands and techies around dismantling the show but other than it’s just a handful of security guards.” Tosh replied equally hushed. 

Jack had to wonder why she was hushed; she was safe in the Land Rover inside the garage. But that always happened didn’t it? Someone spoke in a whisper, they’d get a reply in a whisper. 

“Jack.” Suzie’s voice crackled over the com. The signal wasn’t great, but that wasn’t surprising the beating their equipment had taken. “I’ve been around places like this before. I had a friend in Uni whose dad was a roadie.”

Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes and ask why that was relevant. She’d get there. 

“It’ll take them hours to take down the stage. They’ll likely be here all night, ready to hand over to whoever is setting up for tomorrow. There’s a tight turn around on these events.” Suzie continued. “I think it’s as quiet as its going to get.”

“Alright.” Jack replied. “We’re going in. Tosh keep an eye on the exits. Owen, Suzie you know the plan. No heroics.”

“Yeah yeah. Don’t take on the bad guys unless we have to. Don’t touch anything we can’t identify. Try not to shoot first ask questions later. Did I miss anything Daddy Harkness?” Owen snarked down the com. 

“Depends, are you going to keep calling me Daddy?” Jack grinned, and the grin widened when he heard the throaty disgusted sound Owen made. 

“Sick Harkness. Just sick.”

~Tw~wT~

Placing the device against the door, Suzie tapped a couple of buttons and waited. She’d been waiting a while to test this particular bit of Rift flotsam. Jack wouldn’t be exactly happy to know she’d taken it off base, but what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. It was actually a stroke of luck she had it at all. She’d been planning to take it home that night and try it on purely mechanical locking mechanisms like her front door and her fire-safe and had slipped it into her coat pocket earlier in the day. Sometimes out of the worst scenarios the greatest chances came. 

The device pinged, the purple-y (plum? Aubergine? Mauve?) light going green at the same time as the door clicked. Result. 

Gun in hand, she cautiously pushed open the door just as the com crackled into life. 

“Suzie?”

“What?” She hissed back quietly, scanning the hallway and following the path they’d agreed earlier in the afternoon. 

“Problem girls?” Jack’s hushed voice broke in. 

“No... No Problem.” Tosh quickly replied. “I saw something odd on the CCTV but it was just a shadow.”

“OK then. Keep the com chat to a minimum ladies. We’re doing this quietly.” Jack insisted. 

Suzie didn’t bother to reply. Her heart thundered. It looked like she and Tosh would have to have a chat when this was done. She’d seen the device. Not that she was worried Tosh would rat her out to Jack. That wasn’t how they worked. But she was clearly worried. Tosh did that. Worry. She’d have to sit down and explain the device to her before she worked herself into a tiz about it. 

In many ways Tosh was still too green, too wet behind the ears, still too in awe of Jack, too desperate not to break any rules. She hadn’t learnt yet that at Torchwood, at least their Torchwood, provided they could explain why they’d broken the rules, the actual breaking was rarely a problem. With Jack, rules were more like guidelines. Apart from the golden ones.

Rule one. Don’t Mess With The Rift.   
Rule Two. Always follow Rule One. 

There were also the golden rules that they the team had added over time, but they weren’t official. Important for their own wellbeing and continued physical and mental health (Rule Seven. Do Not assume if it’s in the fridge its edible) but not stone clad gospel like Jack’s two. 

Shaking her head, Suzie snorted with amusement. Best not to think about their rules right now. She needed to stay focussed. (Rule 12. Consider double entendre before each sentence spoken before Jack. If it’s there, he WILL find it.)

Footsteps broke the silence and not her own. Ducking into a doorway, Suzie peered out cautiously before tucking back in. Damn. She really should have been concentrating.

“Tosh?” She whispered urgently. 

“Got you. It’s alright, he’s turned down a side passage. I’ll keep an eye on him. The stairwell you need is two doors down the corridor from your position, on the right.” Tosh chirped back. 

“Thanks.” Suzie breathed out. 

“You getting in trouble Suze?” Owen snorted down the com. 

“Do I have to put both of you on the naughty step when we get back?” Jack chimed in, sounding unimpressed. “What part of silent running were you not grasping earlier?”

OK. So Jack really wasn’t happy. He was also clearly watching too much Super-nanny during their quiet times. That was worrying.

Stepping out of her nook, Suzie crept down the hallway and quickly reached the door Tosh had directed her to, pulling it open and once through easing it back closed as quietly as possible. 

From the stairwell it was just a matter of making it down to the sub-basements. Slipping off her shoes and taking them in one hand to make her steps as silent as possible, she began her descent; heart in her throat the whole way down. 

Oh how she preferred a good workshop and a bit of alien tech to field work. Owen relished it, even Tosh was getting a real buzz for it, but Suzie doubted it would ever be anything but nerve wracking for her. It was part of her job, and a worthwhile part of it too, it was important. It just wasn’t her favourite. 

There was a door at the bottom of the stairwell. Not surprising. Slipping her shoes back on, she peered through the glass panel to check the coast was clear and then moved out, trying to picture the layout of the sub-basements in her head. Some of it was large open space, some of it was narrow corridors with lots of little rooms filled with services. Electrics, Gas, Water, Heating, Air-Conditioning, drainage. Pumps, substations, boilers. All that kind of stuff. The guts of the building. The large open area was storage apparently. 

Jack wanted her to check the small rooms. He and Owen would be taking the large ones, each coming in a separate end. 

If any of them found anything, they were to call in, but so far the coms were quiet. 

Room after little room. The device was coming in handy, many of the rooms were locked. 

“Hey guys. Found something.” Owen’s voice rang loudly in Suzie’s ear after the extended quiet. 

“What?” Jack asked. 

“Looks like someone’s been sleeping rough. Makeshift bed. Food packets.” Owen replied, the distinct sounds of him rustling through the camp audible over the com. “small tool kit. Bugger.”

“Owen?”

“I think I know where your spiders came from Suze. Got a pile of crap here. Circuit boards, motors, the works.” Owen supplied. “Hang on there’s something under...”

Something whooshed over the com, and then there was a clang. 

“Owen!” Suzie yelped already running for the door of the small room she was in. 

“I’m alright! But we’ve got a runner! Tosh can you see her?”

“Hold on, I’m searching...” Tosh urgently replied. “Got her. Suzie she’d headed towards your end of the building. Jack if you back up the way you came and take a left at the T junction you might be able to head her off.”

“On it. Keep tracking her.” Jack barked. 

Barging out into the hallway, Suzie snapped her gaze and her gun one way then the other. “Tosh, which way is she coming from? I’m all turned around.”

“Keep the doors on your right, head down the tunnel and you’ll run right into her.” Tosh replied easily. 

“Oh because I really want to run into her.” Suzie groused under her breath but took off nonetheless. 

She’d only been running for a few moments when she heard Jack’s voice, and not over the com. 

“Don’t move!”

Running around the corner she ran right into another body. She didn’t know what kept her upright, what impulse made her grab hold of the frantic wriggling creature that had run into her. 

“I said don’t move!” Jack boomed. 

The creature, figure, person, in Suzie’s arms didn’t stop trying to get free but Suzie held on, cringing at the wailing screeching noise it was making. It was in that tighter hold that Suzie realised something. It was a girl. A very slight girl. And the noise she was making was so desperate, so plaintive, but it wasn’t just noise. Somewhere in amongst the sounds were words. Not words she understood but definitely words. 

“Jack...” Suzie began, but trailed off not knowing what she was about to say. 

Jack had run up to them, Owen a few short paces behind. With relief, Suzie let go of the waif as Jack hauled her into his grip. 

It was then that he spoke, although like the girl, the words he spoke made no sense to Suzie. 

“What the fuck was that?” Owen barked. Looking at him past Jack and the still struggling alien, Suzie shrugged. 

Jack had the girl by the upper arms now, was practically shaking her. What he said sounded like Miscar better march. Over and over. 

“Keema tep! Keema tep! Limpta better march!” The girl replied through choking hiccupping cries. 

“Jack...” Tosh’s voice over the com. 

“A little busy right now.” He growled back, looking down at the girl, his face losing some of its ire, he shook her again. “Bitempa, crimpa better march?”

“A little sharing might be nice around now Jack.” Owen persisted. 

“I think its galactic standard.” Suzie supplied with a frown. “I’ve heard him use it once or twice when we’ve had tourists come in too low.”

“Guys, you really need to...” Tosh broke in once more. 

“Not now Tosh.” Suzie snapped, fixated on the scene before her. Jack’s hold had loosened considerably, and although he still didn’t exactly look sympathetic, he wasn’t quite the earth’s avenging angel he’d appeared moments before. And the girl. Suzie could see her clearer now. Her skin was orange, not like fake tan, but like a goldfish, scales and all. She had what looked like fine whiskers coming from her cheeks and her hands were webbed. Jack was shooting question after question at her and her answers were coming equally fast, babbled and noisy through her fright and tears. She was crying. 

“Drimpta!” he shouted, and the girl lifted her arm, pointing down the tunnel the way Jack had just come. “Dolma heh!”

Suzie couldn’t speak galactic standard, but she could take a wild stab in the dark about the last two things said. Especially when Jack gave the girl a nudge down the tunnel, keeping hold of her arm. _Where? Show me!_

“Jack what’s going on?” Suzie persisted, jogging slightly to keep up with Jack’s long stride. 

“I’m not sure yet.” Jack admitted. 

“But you have some idea?” Suzie nudged.

“She made the Spiders. It was her camp Owen found.” Jack filled in.

“But...?” 

“I think she’s the girl our Calavite was looking for.”

Owen let rip a curse that was rare even for him. “The one he called a...”

“Don’t say it.” Jack snapped, cutting him off. “Believe me she’ll know what it means and if she is then...”

“Right.” Owen seemed dazed. Suzie didn’t blame him. The Calavite had come looking for a girl. A girl he’d called a Dreneka. Worse than a whore. Jack’s description still made Suzie feel a little ill. 

“But if she’s the... what he said, why would she attack us? Why make the spiders?” Suzie finally asked after what seemed like an age of tunnels. What was it with them and tunnels lately?

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but the girl pulled in his grasp and pointed to a door. Carefully Jack opened it and nudged the girl to lead them inside, a quick glance at Owen and Suzie to make sure their weapons were ready. 

Moving through the doorway, Suzie looked around, checking the space before proceeding. Then she looked at it properly. There was a hole in the floor, cables upon cables coming out of the floor and into... She had no words. It was a machine of some sort. But it was not of this world. And yet at closer inspection it was. Every part, every piece was taken from something very much of this world. Like the spiders. Cannibalised from spare parts. 

“Yullna fetchata. Me tampa heh. Lugma sheema gulma he...” The girl began softly, walking over to the machine, Jack close behind. 

“What’s she saying Jack?” Owen asked cautiously, casting a worried look at Suzie. She understood, it wouldn’t be first time Jack Harkness had been taken in by a pretty face, and despite the scales and whiskers, even Suzie could see she was a pretty face. 

“She was an engineering student on her world...” Jack translated with pained softness. “She... she was on a transport to a colony planet to visit her brother when they were hit by a rift storm. She landed here...”

“Brooma teem. Meta better march heh...”

“Kepta better march?” Jack asked her. 

The girl shook her head, and suddenly the fear was back. “Drolna... Keema Tep!”

“Sh sh sh...” Jack soothed, raising his hands placating. “Dipna heh.”

The girl sniffed. Shook her head and placed her hand on her chest. “Licani Mon.”

Jack smiled. “Captain Jack Harkness.” He pointed to Suzie and Owen. “Suzie Costallo, Owen Harper, Drineh fitcha na. Mehe so?”

The girl nodded to Suzie and Owen in turn then shook her head. “Doolma heh?”

“Jack, need a bit of translating.” Owen sighed. 

“I told her you were a doctor and asked if she was hurt.” Jack huffed back.

“What about the machine?” Suzie threw in impatiently. 

“It’s a communication device.” Jack replied then smacked his forehead. “Bripta, cooma shenda Millenium Centre gifta be heh?”

“Fitcha!” The rest of what the girl said was lost to Suzie and Owen as she babbled excitedly, showing Jack parts of the machine. 

“Jack!” Owen snapped. 

“Alright alright! This machine, it’s a transmitter. She wanted to use the roof of the Millennium centre’s metal roof as an emitter of some kind, to send the signal. The shape isn’t ideal, but its huge and kinda convex, it would have worked but the transmitter isn’t quite working properly.” Jack hurriedly explained. “She was trying to get a message home. Trying to get someone to come find her. She didn’t care who picked it up, she was just hoping someone would.” 

Just hoping someone would. God. Suzie felt her knees go a little weak. It was far too easy to picture. Finding herself on an alien world, far from home without a way to get back and then being found by the likes of that calavite and... no wonder she didn’t care. No wonder she would risk any and all the scum of the universe. No wonder she wouldn’t think twice about how she did it. She just wanted a way out. And there she was, babbling happily through her tears to Jack and looking at him with her huge silver eyes like he was her saviour just because he spoke her language and understood what she was trying to do. Like he could help her. “Jack, can we help her?”

“The question perhaps would be whether or not it is in your own best interests to do so. Captain Harkness.”

The new voice cut across the room like a knife. They all turned. The girl darting behind Jack and clinging to his greatcoat as Suzie took in the new comer, gun raised. He was short. Very short. Dark skinned, leathery looking with horns protruding from his head like a crown. He wore a pristine white suit, and on either side of him two fuzzy faced men, aliens, in equally smart suits menaced and filled the doorway, guns raised. 

“Ahh, little Mon. I see you’ve been busy.” The newcomer sighed, his face filled with a gentle smile that made Suzie’s skin crawl. “You’ve given us quite the run around. Tsk tsk.”

Suzie tapped her com. “Tosh...”

“Ah. I’m Sorry. I’m afraid I’ve blocked your communications. Miss Sato was becoming a little annoying with her persistence to get hold of you, and proving quite adept at overriding our control of the cameras. Quite a nuisance.”

“If you’ve hurt her...” Jack growled, his own gun now raised as well. 

“I assure you she is quite unharmed.” The newcomer reassured slimily. “I simply severed the communication link you share, nothing more. She’s probably running across the Plass now, coming to save the day. That is what you hero types do isn’t it? Not that she’ll be able to get in. She’ll find her way blocked I’m afraid, and if she has any sense she won’t persist in her efforts.”

Jack snarled. “Who are you?!”

“Forgive me. How rude.” The newcomer clasped his hands in front of himself. “My Name is Mr Salls.”

Suzie jerked. The name Jack has said was a myth. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack’s eyes widen and then narrow. 

“Mr Salls is a myth.” Jack replied derisively. 

“And yet here I stand. Quite real.” Mr Salls jovially rebuffed. “Now down to business. I have no interest in Torchwood Mr, sorry Captain Harkness, in fact I’m rather a fan of your work. Under your regime Cardiff is far friendlier place to do business. None of this kill on sight, if it’s alien it’s ours nonsense you have to deal with across the border. Why Cardiff is booming under your guardianship Captain. I really must commend you. However, we seem to have a slight problem. You see that young lady behind you is in fact mine. And while I would rather not do anything rash, she represents a rather large investment and I will protect my investments Captain, by _any_ means.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there are three guns aimed at your head.” Jack responded sarcastically. 

“So there are.” Mr Salls observed. “But can Dr Harper and Miss Costallo, don’t look so shocked I do my research.” He rolled his eyes. “Can your associates take us all out before _my_ associates take them out I wonder? Or perhaps you’d like to risk Miss Sato? She should be with my associates upstairs by now.”

“He’s bluffing.” Owen bit out. 

“Am I?” Mr Salls calmly replied. “Are you really willing to test that theory?”

“He doesn’t need to.” Jack shot back with a smirk. 

Catching Owen’s eye, Suzie cast him a wary look before returning her gaze to the thugs and Mr Salls. God she hoped Jack knew what he was doing. 

“See, the thing you don’t realise. The thing you seem to have overlooked. The small detail that’s escaped you? Is that my team? My people? I chose them. And the reason I chose them was because they’re good. Better than good. They’re the best.” Jack taunted with so much pride Suzie felt a smile breaking out on her face before she ruthlessly crushed it. Jack suddenly brought up his left arm and casually clicked a button on his wrist-strap. “While your people? Not so good. Tosh, what have learned?”

“That Calavites and Sodium Pentathal don’t mix well.” Tosh’s voice rang out tinnily from the device. “Other than that, I have names, address, locations, contacts. I think he was about ready to give me his mother.”

“I take it you weren’t aware we had one of your associates in our custody.” Jack smirked, gleefully taking in the brief flicker of shock on Mr Salls face.

Mr Salls remained silent.

“UNIT and One are standing by Captain.” Tosh spoke up. “Just say the word.”

“You despise Torchwood London, you would not call for their aid.” Mr Salls snorted derisively. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Jack smirked back. “Are you willing to test the theory? Even if you escape here with your life... All your businesses, your clients, associates, everything you own, everything you have. Gone... and all for this girl?”

Mr Salls eyes flicked to Mon, who ducked further behind Jack, his breath coming in heavy nasal bursts. 

“Toshiko overcame your communication blocker easy enough, and your associate has been so very helpful. Do you really want to risk it all?” Jack added conversationally, then grinned again. 

“You kill me you won’t make it out of this building alive.” Mr Salls countered. “My associates are everywhere.”

“And the moment Tosh even suspects we have a problem she’ll have Unit and London crush you, your little operation and anyone else we can even remotely connect to you like a bug.”

It was a standoff. A classic standoff. No one had the upper hand. 

Finally Mr Salls snorted, pursed his lips and bowed his head sagely. “Your talents are wasted in Torchwood Captain. You should have been a businessman, you would have made a fine negotiator. I will leave you with the Dreneka. I hope she proves as pleasing to you, as she has been for her many clients.”

“If they complain about her absence, be sure to pass on my apologies.” Jack snarled. 

“I may just do that Captain.” Mr Salls nodded again, and then with flick of his hand, he turned, the two thugs backing out with him. 

“Jack?” Owen asked hurriedly, looking like he would quite happily sprint off after the retreating Salls, but Jack shook his head. 

“Stand down.”

Turning as one, Suzie and Owen could only stare at their Captain incredulously.


	8. Epilogue

**Cardiff, November 2004  
Arrival Day**

There was something about the British Royal family. Didn’t matter where they went - what deep seated cultural resentments might be held against them, how violent, bloody and acrimonious the history between the countries involved - they always drew a crowd. A cheering, flag waving, flower bearing, grinning crowd. 

It was like magnetism. Put the royals in public and people came. In their thousands. Even the Welsh, who so steadfastly trumpeted their unique cultural heritage, who refused to let their language die out and were almost as defiantly independent as the Scottish, flocked to the streets just to catch a glimpse. Just so they could one day tell their grandchildren, _‘I was there, I saw the Queen’._

And where the people went, so did the media. Cameras and lorries, and smart suited correspondents giving heartfelt reports for outside broadcasts. 

It was hardly any wonder the Powers That Be determined that the world wasn’t ready to know about alien life when just watching a bunch of inbred German aristocrats could cause this level of universal mania. 

Suzie looked out over the crowd on the packed Plass and shook her head in wry amusement. There were about a thousand and one things they could be doing right now, but oh no, they were right where everyone else was, waiting and watching. Well, alright, not exactly where everyone else was; since technically they were involved in the security detail they were on scaffold tower overlooking the crowd. There was an Mi5 agent and a couple of police officers on the level below and an SAS sniper on the level above. 

Beside her Owen leaned against the rail occasionally making snarky comments but otherwise apparently quite content with his vantage point, emergency medical kit at his feet, and on her other side Tosh sat on the platform, arms on the middle rail and feet dangling over the side, huge grin on her face as she watched the crowd. Jack was around somewhere. Probably annoying people with actual work to do.

“That Mrs Miggins is a piece of work isn’t she?” Owen commented idly out of nowhere. 

Tosh let out a disgruntled noise and Suzie snorted. He wasn’t wrong. The meddlesome busybody had been at the tourist office at nine that morning and had been very specific about how she wanted things presented (apparently in case the Queen decided to stop in for a bus timetable or something) and insisted Ianto remain at his post until closing, what with it being such an important day for Wales. Suzie wondered if someone ought to point out to the woman that Wales actually had its own, named member of the Royal family, and that it did, in fact, get regular royal visitations. 

The clatter of boots on metal rungs drew Suzie away from her less than charitable mental commentary on Mrs Miggins, and turning her head slightly she smiled as Jack stepped onto the platform, coming to stand behind Tosh. 

“You sort everything with Mon?” Suzie asked the question she’d been dying to ask all day. 

Jack smiled back and nodded. “Nice couple I know live just outside of Newport. They’ll look after her until we can sort something more permanent, and I doubt Salls will go looking for her.”

“Not after the note you pinned to the Calavite he won’t.” Owen snorted.

“Stapled.” Suzie corrected. “The note he _stapled_ to the Calavite.”

“He was dead!” Jack defended himself shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Rolling her eyes, Suzie turned back to the crowd. The Calavite’s death had been unfortunate, but unavoidable. None of the inmates in the vaults had survived the smoke and fumes from the fire. Not that Suzie would lose any sleep over his death. In truth she’d have been happy to do the honours herself. 

This whole incident had opened a can of worms that wasn’t sitting easily with any of them. All the hell of the last week, all the theories they’d banded around, all the looming invasion plots and assassination attempts they’d envisaged and what it had all come down to was one very scared and badly abused girl desperate to get home. She hadn’t meant to cause any harm or trouble. In truth, had the Hub not been in the state it was in, they likely wouldn’t have known what she was doing at all. 

And if they hadn’t known, then chances were Salls would have found her again. Found her and dragged her back to... 

Suzie closed her eyes. “We need to find it... where they...” She clenched her fists on the rail, and suddenly she felt a warm hand cover hers. The contact was only brief, fingers squeezinging hers then withdrawing. Blinking her eyes open again she tracked her gaze to Owen’s profile. He wasn’t looking at her, but the tiny gesture meant a lot. He felt it too. The horror of what they’d only barely glimpsed. 

Suzie would admit she’d loathed and hated people in her time, but rarely had one person earned her hatred so fast. Mr Salls. And the worst part about him was that he was so very human. It was like he’d soaked up the worst of humanity. Not the crazies, not the nut job murderers, rapists and wife beaters, not the ignorant thugs and brainless mothers whose IQ’s were so low they couldn’t cope. No, the mindless violence he left to others. If she were naive she might believe he’d found his inspiration on another world, but she wasn’t. What Mr Salls had draped around himself like a cloak of honour was the kind of humanity that was utterly cold. Ruthless. Money and power hungry. 

An investment. That’s what he’d called that girl. An investment. She was an alien yes, but she was also sentient, and so very very intelligent. Suzie had taken hours that morning dismantling the transmitter Mon had built and it was a thing of inspired beauty. What she’d achieved which such limited resources was breath-taking and that _creature_ had... Jack had explained what the word meant. Dreneka. A Tool. A Vessel. A thing. 

It made Suzie want to wretch. It made her want to scream. It made her feel cold on the inside when she thought how close they’d come to having to turn her over. Because for a time there, in the Millennium centre basement, it hadn’t seemed like they would have much choice. Not when Salls had said he had Tosh. Not when it was clear that even if they shot Salls dead where he stood they would never make it out of the building alive. 

He’d been so convincing. But then so had Jack. Crafty bastard. He’d been in communication with Tosh all along, apart from a brief period of time when Salls’ associates had been trying to block the coms. And Tosh. Well Suzie had to give credit where credit was due. The girl could certainly think on her feet.

When Jack had let Salls go she hadn’t been sure which she’d wanted to tear him a new one for most. Letting the bastard walk away or for getting UNIT and One involved. But that had been Tosh. Lying through her teeth. And it had worked. Which explained why Jack had let him go. His threat had been as empty as a politician’s promise.

Another hand came to rest on her shoulder. 

Jack. 

It was a promise and she knew he meant it. She looked over her shoulder and met his eyes. No mask, no veneer, no cracks where things could leak through. Just Jack. And everything she felt and so much more on his face. 

Horror, shame, guilt, determination. She knew, when he’d taken over Torchwood Three he’d been determined to do things differently. 

Golden Rule Number Three: Just because its alien, doesn’t mean it’s bad. 

So at odds with the rest of Torchwood. With the thinking of so many. He’d worked so hard and it made Suzie’s blood boil that the likes of Salls had taken advantage. Had seen his charity, his morality, his fairness as weakness. 

This was his town. And just a couple of hours ago they’d learnt that its underbelly was far dirtier than they ever could have imagined. 

Salls was still out there. He probably had others trapped and enslaved and who knew what else going on, believing himself above reprisal or justice. If she had anything to say about it they were going to bring the bastard down. 

Looking in Jack’s eyes now, she knew he felt the same. It was dark, filthy and rotten out there. But that’s what they were here for. That’s what they did. Today they’d lost, but they’d also won. They’d helped Mon. They would help others.

Turning back to the crowd, Suzie knew she wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.


End file.
